


End Game

by islandahgase



Category: GOT7
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Corporate, Angst, BDSM, BDSM Scene, Bartender! Yugyeom, Club Owner! Bambam, College Student! Mark, Exhibitionism, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot, Porn With Plot, Rich Stepbrothers! Jackson and Jaebum, Secretary! Youngjae, Sex Club, Smut, Some Fluff, Sub! Jinyoung, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-05-20 11:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 46,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14893370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islandahgase/pseuds/islandahgase
Summary: As a dominant , Jaebum puts a whole new meaning to "freak in the bedroom , formidable in the boardroom" . The dust is settling from Jaebum's turbulent teenage years and he's finally working his way towards taking over his dad's place in the company as the CEO of Im Pacifica .Mark is just trying to finish the last eight months of the exchange program and go back home to Los Angeles to graduate when he meets Jackson , Jaebum's younger stepbrother , and becomes his submissive .What happens when Jaebum decides he wants Mark for himself ? Will it ruin the solid relationship between the brothers ?Or that one story Mimzi thought was gonna be fucking awesome to start the week before finals (ノ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ノ︵┻┻





	1. Prologue : Death

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING : If you are not comfortable with the BDSM and practices , do NOT continue reading . If you want to learn about it , be my guest . By all means , continue . Please do not use this fic as a reference for "research" on BDSM , if you are interested in BDSM and its practices . Do NOT try any of acts at home without properly educating yourself on BDSM . I will not be held responsible if you do attempt any of the acts in this fic and you sustain an injury ! 
> 
> With that being said , please enjoy my craziness LOL XD 
> 
> Also thank you to ObliviousChyld and TJBaby for betaing my craziness and leaving me quirky comments ! You two are the best editors in the world !

Prologue

_ Believe it _

“Red,” the first one came out before the rest came out between choked sobs from the boy lying on his bed naked, “Red, red, red.” He began to struggle even harder, tugging at the red ropes tightly wound around his wrist, twisting his feet that was being held apart by a spreader. His eyes clenched shut as tears streamed down his soft, angelic face.

Im Jaebum was many things, but he was not an animal. Shell-shocked, he froze over the boy - the crop in his fist loosening around the handle. He dropped the crop before he hurriedly knelt on the bed and began to unbuckle the belt from around the boy’s ankle. Before the ropes could even slip off his wrist completely, his latest and longest submissive, Park Jinyoung began to sob loudly into the silk sheets, white knuckles gripping his biceps, knees curling up to his chest.

_ Did I do something wrong? Did I go too hard? Why did he use his safe word?  _ A thousand question swirled in his mind, but Jinyoung only continued to cry. “Baby, are you okay? Was I too rough? Did I hurt you?” he asked the raven-haired boy as he reached out to comfort the him. The tip of his middle finger met the boy’s cold skin right before he cringed away from his touch. For the second time that night, he froze. He inwardly cursed. Changing his tone, he tried again. “Turn. Talk to me, Jinyoung,” he said forcefully.

Slowly, Jinyoung turned to him. His brown eyes puffy at the edges and red, matching the hue at the tip of his nose, the whiskered smile he’d grown fond of was now gone. “Y-You didn’t hurt me, sir. I just… I can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t do what?” he asked quietly.  _ It’s coming. This is it,  _ he thought to himself. He’s known for a while now, but refused to acknowledge it. It was almost inevitable. In the four years they’ve been together as dominant and sub, Jinyoung has never used the safe word.

“I broke your rule. I fell in love… with you,” the boy sobbed quietly.

“Jinyoung-…,” he began to say on a sigh, running a hand through his hair before he covered his face. He had hoped the younger would realize there was no chance for them and would forget about it.

“I know, Jaebum. I know you don’t love me. I’m just your submissive. I’m nobody. I’ve always known it would come to this. This was supposed to be my goodbye. I’m leaving soon, and I’m not coming back.”

“Were you ever gonna tell me?” he asked angrily, standing from the bed to pace.

“Yes. I was gonna tell you before I went home tonight. After-…”

“After I fucked you one last time,” he finished for the other crudely, not bothering to hide the sting in his voice.  _ It’s gonna be a bitch finding another submissive and the opening for the COO job is just right around the corner. _

Jinyoung began to sob again. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Cursing again this time more loudly, he crawled on the bed once more. Quietly, he gathered the younger man in his arms and shushed him. This was not his forte. In fact, it was the completely opposite. This was not normal behavior for a dominant, but they’ve been together for too long for him to treat Jinyoung like he would any of his previous subs. “Sleep here for tonight. You can leave in the morning.”

“Yes, sir,” Jinyoung replied, nodding sleepily. He stayed there for a while even after the younger had fallen asleep in his arms. He knew it was dangerous, but he owed Jinyoung this much at least. The younger had been good to him the past few years.

One hour. Two hours. Three, he finally got up and went into his study. He poured himself a glass of whiskey and gulped it down in one go, feeling it burn down his throat before he abandoned the glass and carried the decanter to his desk. He sat in his chair and leaned back against it, bringing the decanter to his lips as he looked out the window at the night sky.  _ You’re too close, Jaebum. Keep your eyes on the prize. _

After another hour or so, the sky began to lighten into a lighter shade of blue, almost grey and he was now drunk off his ass. Light began to stream through the window blindingly, so he closed his eyes.  _ Maybe it’s a good thing. Maybe Jinyoung leaving would give me more time to focus on that COO job. Dad never really approved of this part of me anyways. It’s the one thing in my life he’ll never be able to control. Jinyoung is good to me, but he deserves better. He deserves someone that will focus more on his needs as a sub. _

“Sir?” Jinyoung’s voice broke through and he tried to open his eyes again, but the sun was now too bright and a headache began to form. He heard the sub groan, and he tried to growl at the insolence, but he couldn’t even lift his head. _Damn. I’m really drunk, huh? “_ Jinyoung-ah-…” he croaked. “Stay.”

“Don’t give me hope, Jaebum. You and I both know that you can’t give me what I want. That job is much more important and making your father proud. Please, don’t come looking for me,” Jinyoung deep, soothing voice said to him. “I love you, Jaebum.”

He didn’t reply. He couldn’t. It’s best this way. “Good bye, sir.”

“Good bye, Jinyoung. I’m so sorry.”

The kiss the younger placed on his lips was soft and bittersweet. “I’m sorry too, Jaebum-ssi. I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my end of the deal. I hope you find what you’re looking for one day.”

A moment later, there was a click and Jinyoung was gone. It was the first time a sub walked out on him and he didn’t know what to do. He blindly reached for the decanter again only to find it empty.  _ Shit! _


	2. The High Priestess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Step into the world I created and meet the most important characters at the center of the chaos :)

_Chapter I : Games_

_What are you looking at?_

〆

“Com’on, Hyung! Who was your last sub anyways? Jinyoung?” Jackson asked as he spun the champagne in his glass creating a small whirlpool to form in the center of the flute, his deep, nonchalant chocolate eyes belying his concern.

“Jackson,” he warned, turning his head to glare at the younger even as his thoughts drifted back to what his last sub had told him right before walking out on him. _I hope you find what you’re looking for one day._ He clenched his jaw at the memory. _What was he even talking about?_

Jackson completely disregarded the warning, and continued, “Seriously, Hyung. You need one, and soon. Don’t wait until it becomes a liability to the company. You know how your dad gets when he catches you slipping. You barely got the COO job. Don’t ruin it. You know what’s at stake here.”

“I know!” he growled, growing more and more annoyed at the younger mentioning his father. He knew all too well how his father was. The man was neither accepting nor did he approve of his sexuality or his ways, but it was the one thing he didn’t control in Jaebum’s life, and he was determined to keep it that way. His father had come to ignore it. If he didn’t witness it, it didn’t exist. “Seriously, Jacks. This is neither the time nor the place to be discussing my… frustrations.”

“Just think about what I said,” the younger said before he walked away.

“Fuck you, Wang Jackson,” he muttered to himself before he followed the younger. Jackson led them to an unoccupied table and together they sat in silence for a minute. “What’s so special about this club anyways?”

“So you are interested?” Jackson asked, finally breaking the nonchalant demeanor he had earlier. The younger leaned forward, his rapt attention fully focused on him now.

“Let’s say I am. What’s so special about this club?” he repeated.

Jackson tilted his head back, obviously cheering himself as he placed his glass on the table. “My friend, Bambam- the Thai guy- he runs the place. It’s private and the members require monthly health checks and security clearances, so you don’t have to worry about catching something nasty or gold-diggers. Also, you can bring someone home for the night or for a more permanent liaison, if you choose to do so.”

He sighed, nodding his head as he rolled the thought around in his mind. It wasn’t a completely bad idea. “I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll give him a heads up,” the younger said, standing up with a satisfied lop-sided grin. “Now, com’on, let’s get this clown show on the road.”

He looked away, rolling his eyes before he stood on his feet. “Yeah, let’s… so I can go home and take my sexual frustration out on my hands.”

Jackson erupted into a fit of hyena-like laughter. “I never would thought I would see the day when the enigmatic Im Jaebum would talk about going home to jack off.”

He growled. “Yeah, fuck you, Wang Jackson! Go eat shit.”

The younger simply laughed, throwing an arm over his shoulder. “Let’s make a deal.”

He arched a brow at the younger.

“Loser pays.”

“Loser?”

Jackson nodded his head to the stage where an A. Aletto 8.66-carat Burmese Ruby and diamond platinum ring glittered within the shadow case that held it secure. It was the prize piece of the auction. The proceeds going to charity for the needy of Seoul. Judging by the piece, it wasn’t worth more than a million dollars at least, but he knew it would sell for more tonight. “If I lose, I’ll be your sub indefinitely. If you lose, you go to the club.”

He smirked, imagining Jackson as his sub. It would be fun to see another dominant bend to his will. “You know you’re gonna lose, right? I mean, what do you have to gain from all this?”

“It’s for charity, Hyung,” the younger smirked, throwing in an insolent wink.

“Seriously, Jacks. What’s your motive? Either way, I’m gaining sub, but what’s in it for you?”

“Just trying to help.”

“Fine. You won’t tell me. Get ready to be my bitch,” he growled.

Jackson simply laughed.

They began to mingle amongst their peers, and when the auction started, he and Jackson were standing at opposite ends of the ballroom. Piece after precious piece were sold at outrageous prices, and when it came to the highlight of the evening, Jackson smirked, eyebrow shooting up his forehead with a cock of his head at the sign he held in his hand- a clear challenge. He gnashed his teeth. _Damn it, if I’m losing to Wang Jackson._

The auctioneer placed the starting bid at a million, and Jackson upped the bid to one million-two. He picked up his sign immediately. “One million-four.”

There was a collection of gasps and people began to whisper amongst themselves. “I got one million-four. Do I hear one million-six?”

Jackson picked up his sign. “One million-six,” he called out to the auctioneer.

He picked up his sign, looking at Jackson dead in the eyes with a smirk. “I’ll go three-large.”

“I hear three million. No further bidding? Going once. Going twice. Sold at three million dollars!” the auctioneer cried, banging his gavel against podium.

People began to gather around him, congratulating him on his win, but for some reason he didn’t feel like he had won anything. Judging from the salacious smile on Jackson’s face, he’d been played for a fool. He weaved his way around the crowd to stand in front of Jackson. “So, you ready to be my bitch?”

The younger laughed at him. “Oh, Hyung. I didn’t lose. You did.”

“What?” he asked, highly confused.

“That thing was worth way less than what you paid for. What are you even gonna do with an engagement ring anyways?”

He cursed under his breath. He’s been baited into paying for a useless item. He’d been too focus on winning the upper hand over Jackson that he had forgotten the ring’s actual value. “You bastard.” He’d not only lost money, but his pride by playing right into Jackson’s trap.

Jackson downed the contents of his glass before he set it on the table. He stepped forward and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll see you next weekend, Hyung. Have Youngjae send your latest medical check-up to my office.”

He grit his teeth, and for the third time that evening, he hissed at the other. “Fuck you, Wang Jackson!”

 

 

 

 

_Ready? Ready? Begin!_

〆

Jaebum scowled deeply as he stepped out of his car and threw his keys at the valet waiting for him to step onto the curb. He stopped and took the club in, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. Aside for the bold neon lights at the top of the small single-story that read Devil’s Doors, it looked like a country club, but he knew all too well what went on within its four walls. The club was notorious around Seoul as a place for people with various sexual appetites to mingle. Rumor even had it that the place even had rooms in the rear equipped with all the necessities for those that couldn’t bring home their partners for the night for a hefty sum.

He eyed the building hesitantly for a minute, contemplating whether he should even step foot in it until another car came screeching around the drive. He arched an eyebrow at it until Jackson’s brown head popped out of the driver’s seat. The smile on his face was exuberant, clearly showing his happiness as he hopped out of it.

“Reckless much?” he asked rhetorically.

The younger smirked, white teeth flashing just for a second. “No ‘hi’ for me, Hyung?” he asked as he came around the hood. He opened the passenger side door and a lanky, olive skinned boy with bleached-blonde hair highlighted with blue streaks stepped out. The boy smiled at him sweetly. “You must be Jaebum. Welcome to the Devil’s Doors.”

He forced a smile at the man. “And you are?”

“Not a sub,” the boy drawled, causing Jackson to chuckle, shaking his head. “I’m Bambam.”

He opened his mouth, letting a sound of acknowledgement come out. “You’re the owner.”

“Yes. Com’on! What are you standing on the curb for? Let’s go in,” the younger said cheerily, tucking his hand into the crook of his elbow.

He dug his heels into the pavement before the man could drag him any closer to the door. “I don’t know-…”

Bambam didn’t let his arm go. The boy just turned and looked at him inquisitively. “You don’t know what?”

“This is not my thing,” he answered with a scowl.

The Thai simply sighed before taking a step towards him. His grey eyes, which he was sure were lenses, looked right into his, and he felt strangely exposed- like someone had stripped him of all his clothing and jewelry. The boy placed both his hand on his shoulders and frowned. “How do you know it’s ‘not your thing,’ if you’ve never tried it before?”

“I’ve never helmed a ship, but I also know I don’t want to,” he countered, arching a brow at the entrepreneur.

Bambam giggled, looking over at Jackson. “You’re right. He is a stubborn one.” The Thai looked back at him before continuing. “Look, Hyung! You’re right, but you’re also wrong. Helming a ship requires practice and diligence, not to mention a license. Finding a submissive requires more work because you have to rely on your instincts as a dominant to narrow down on one person that will let you take care of them as much as they take care of you, then actually taking initiative and letting yourselves do so. Don’t even get me started on training. That shit takes patience! Something I have little of. Luckily for you, I’m already licensed in finding someone for you. Less work for you, more money for me.”

He thought about it for a second. _Hell, what the fuck do I have to lose?_

“Hyung, a deal is a deal. You lost at the auction. Time to pay up,” Jackson interjected with a smirking.

He shot the man a glare before he shook his head in defeat. “Fuck it! It’s just one night.”

Bambam squealed. “That’s the fucking spirit! Now, let’s go!” he yelled into the night sky, grabbing at his arm again. “I have the perfect person in mind,” he continued as they walked towards the entrance. Even from the distance they were standing at, Jaebum could practically see the doors groaning against its hinges with how loud the music was pounding at them.

At the door, two large men, who seemed to be of Hawaiian descent, hauled the doors open and greeted Bambam with a nod of their head. Loud music poured into the night as they walked through the doors. Apprehension began to seep in as he watched a largely built man being led past them on a leash by another of medium height and built, both scantily clad in leather just like everyone else in the room apparently was. For a moment, he began to think he was overdressed before he remembered Jackson and Bambam were as much ‘dressed’ as he was.

“I serve the needy,” Bambam whispered in his ear playfully before he leaned away and began to greet a group of people that gathered around him.

Jaebum gave the boy a sidelong look before he turned back to Jackson, who was being led away by someone. Groaning, he realized belatedly that he was left to fend for himself. He looked around in search of the bar, spotting it right away. He bee-lined around other patrons, noticing that some were already busy getting their fill of their partners, right out in the open.

 _Must be voyeurs and exhibitionist,_ he thought to himself. _Not my cup of tea, but whatever. To each their own, right?_ Finally, he got to the counter and leaned over it.

A lanky Korean boy, who couldn’t be more than five years younger than him, was wiping a glass dry, looked up at him. “What can I get for you?” the boy asked with a smile that was too cheerful for a club like the Devil’s Doors.

“The strongest you got, man,” he sighed on a sigh.

The boy chuckled. “First time?” he asked, pulling a shot glass from under the counter.

“Is it that obvious?” he answered with a question of his own, frowning.

The boy’s eyebrows shot up as he looked down at the glass he was pouring tequila into. “Extremely,” he returned. The boy slide the glass across the counter at him. “Dom? Sub? Exhib? Voy? What’s your game?”

“Dom,” he answered, catching the glass before it slid of the counter.

“I figured as much,” the boy nodded. “Look, I’m gonna be real honest with you here. Right now, you don’t look like one. You look like you stumbled into the wrong club.”

He growled at the boy, jutting his chin out.

“Yo, bartender here. I’m allowed to give you shit, like unwanted advice,” the boy chuckled, holding his hands up- the rag he had been holding dangling precariously from his right hand. “If you’re really here to find a sub, even just for the evening, you gotta show them you can be a powerful dom that’ll take care of them. I can tell just by looking at you that you can really give off a commanding presence, and that’s what the subs in here look for. Unleash the tiger, man.”

He straightened, lifting the glass to his lips. He drained it of its contents, the bitter liquid burning down his sternum, before he leaned on the counter again. The boy reached over and refilled it. He stared at the glass for a second. _The boy is right._

The boy leaned over the counter, gesturing behind him to the stage, and he swiveled his head to look. On the stage were the two men that passed him at the entrance. The larger man was on his knees, mouth filled with cock as the man that had been holding his leash was fucking into him at a slow pace, watching his cock disappear into his pet’s ass. “That’s the owner-pet zone. The ‘owners’ bring in their ‘pets’ and sometimes they share them. Club rules are you can’t touch a ‘pet’ unless you have the ‘owner’s’ permission… keeps the peace within the club, ya’know what I mean?”

He nodded.

“The people across them- those are the voyeurs. You know what voyeurs are right?”

He scowled at the boy.

“Right… Anyways… The ones beside the voyeurs- those are the exhibitionist. It only makes sense to put them beside each other,” the boy shrugged before he pointed over his opposite shoulder.

Jaebum followed the boy’s finger, twisting it in the other direction to the corner he was indicating. In the opposite corner, he watched one man hold another down across his knee and landed slap after slap on the sub’s ass. Even from where he stood at the bar, he could tell that the hits would’ve sounded like music in a more quiet setting. He turned fully, leaning his elbows on the bar counter, taking in the sight. His hands began to itch. His cock hardened slightly as he watched the sub’s face slacken, full lips creating a perfect O. A moment later, the dom made the sub kneel before him and he stood to free his cock from the confines of his jeans. One command, and the sub was opening his mouth to welcome his dom. It didn’t take long for the dom to begin roughening his sub up by gripping his short hair and pounding his length down the sub’s throat.

“That would be the corner you want to be in. Those are the doms and subs. Just remember, man. If you need a room, just ask, but you gotta be with your partner and have their permission before I can give you a key.”

“I won’t be needing a key, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Ah, there you are! I’ve been looking all over for you! You disappeared,” Bambam said as he approached. “Did Yugyeomie here give you the run through?” he asked as he threw a peace sign at the bartender.

The bartender chuckled reaching under the counter again, emerging with another glass. “Just filling him in on the whos and whats, Babe,” the boy told the Thai.

He arched a brow. “Babe?” he asked turning to lean one elbow to face Bambam.

Yugyeom slid his refilled glass to him before handing Bambam a glass with both arms extended- a gesture of great respect.

He frowned between the two remembering Bambam’s comment from earlier about not being a submissive. He stopped glancing between the two and looked Yugyeom dead in the eyes. “Your dom, I take it,” he meant to comment, but it came out more of a question.

“God, no,” Yugyeom said, scoffing. “Bambam and I have a very traditional- very vanilla- relationship.”

 _Vanilla?_ He cringed at the thought, looking to Bambam for confirmation.

“I was a submissive… once. Before I met Gyeomie, that is,” the Thai boy revealed. “We occasionally partake in the club’s activities, but for the most part, we enjoy each other.”

“And you’re both comfortable sharing?” he asked, finding their relationship more and more _untraditional._

“Well, we did make a vow to support each other,” Yugyeom answered. “I trust him.”

He shook his head, turning to scan the crowd as he lifted the glass to his lips again. He swished the liquid around before he swallowed, the burn still apparent. A light buzz began to rack through him.

“Ah, there he is,” Bambam said from beside him, lifting his hand to someone in the crowd. “Hyung, over here!”

A Korean man about his height and built with a heart-shaped face splitting into a soft, shy smile, lifted his hand in the air before he sauntered up casually towards them. As he approached closer, Bambam walked forward and embraced him. “How’s work?”

“Shitty,” he replied, shyly peeking up at Jaebum.

There was a pull in his groin he hadn’t felt in a while as he looked the man over. _Yes, it would be fun to break this man- train him to satisfy me. He’s perfect,_ he observed as the man and Bambam turned towards them. He watched as Bambam whispered something in the man’s ears and it the tips went red. He had no doubt in his mind Bambam had told the man something obscenely dirty. The man stepped towards him and offered his hand. “You must be Jaebum. I’m Youngjae- Yoo Youngjae,” he said meekly.

 _Yes, he is perfect,_ he thought with a smirk. “Hi, and yes, I’m Jaebum,” he replied, silkily as he reached out and grasped the man’s hand. It was soft, he noticed. His grip wasn’t firm, but it wasn’t weak either, indicating at his hidden strength.

Youngjae blushed cutely, and whatever power tugged at the corner of his lips seemed to be connected to the muscle in his groin.

“You’re cute,” he blurted before he could catch himself, but let it go as he watched Youngjae’s blush deepen.

“Thank you,” he murmured softly.

Jaebum smiled like a Cheshire cat. _Fun, indeed,_ he thought to himself like he’d caught a bird between his teeth.

 

 

 

 

_Please look at me_

〆

There was a quiet knock at his door. Without looking up from the reports on his desk, he called out for the person to come in. The door cracked open and he glanced up, briefly to see blonde locks peek through the crack recognizing Youngjae before he even looked up from his planner. “Sir, you’re father just called. He wants to see you after the board meeting.”

He froze, the fountain pen in his hand hovering over the page he was about to sign, to look up and frown at his secretary. _I really need to find him a nickname,_ he thought for the second time that day, as he looked up at the innocent, sunny secretary before a thought hit him. “I wasn’t aware there was a board meeting being held today,” he gritted out, jamming the pen into its inkwell in frustration.

“I got the email, sir but your name was not on the list of people that were required to attend,” Youngjae

His frown visibly deepened. “Do you know what was being discussed?”

“No, sir.”

“But you can find out,” he finished for the secretary, forcefully.

Youngjae’s eyes widened for a millisecond before he nodded frantically, and he instantly felt bad. He leaned back on his chair and scrubbed his palm over his eyes, sighing exasperatedly. “Never mind, Youngjae. It’s fine. I’m sure my old man will tell me what was discussed.”

The door clicked shut and he peeked through his palms to find Youngjae seating himself in a chair across from him. “Hyung, are you okay?” Youngjae asked. The concern thickly laced in his voice was apparent on his face. The switch in title telling him immediately that he was no longer talking to his secretary, but a close friend. “The better question is: how’s the training going?”

“Far too easy,” he sighed again.

His friend scoffed. “Then what’s the problem? By the way, I still find it weird that your newest sub has the same name I do.”

“Believe me, I do too,” he replied chuckling under his breath. “It’s too easy, Youngjae-ah! Maybe I’m being too picky, but it’s not fun. He’s too obedient. He doesn’t defy me and listens too well, so after the adrenaline dies down, I feel like I’m the only one truly receiving anything from this arrangement. I mean, he enjoys the sex, but it’s not _there._ That spark that I’m looking for isn’t _there.”_

“Hyung, have you ever thought that maybe this life is just not cutting it for you anymore?” his friend asked slowly. “That maybe what you’re looking for now is a traditional relationship?”

“Youngjae, I can never have a ‘traditional’ relationship,” he reminded the younger.

“Hyung, I’m not talking about finding a nice girl and playing house,” the younger replied in a deadpanned voice.

“Then what are you saying?” he asked in frustration.

Youngjae stood from his chair and sighed. “Think about, Hyung,” he said before he left the room, leaving Jaebum to stew on his words.

He lifted his fist and slammed in on the desk. He couldn’t even be entirely mad at Youngjae. He had gotten a clear warning before the secretary had made the switch from employee to friend, and given his opinion. _What is a traditional relationship, if not a relationship between a man and woman?_ He rolled the thought for a while longer before he pushed it to the side and focused on the reports again.

It wasn’t until late in the afternoon that Youngjae came peeking in through the door again. “Sir?” the secretary called, breaking through the myriad of thoughts running through his mind.

“What is it now, Youngjae?” he asked in exasperation, placing his pen down to look up at the employee.

“Your father is ready for you,” he answered, closing the door again.

He sighed, standing from his seat. He picked up his jacket and began to push his arms through when the door was flung open and his dad walked through. “Jaebum-ah,” his father greeted walking towards him with his hand already extended. “Sit, son. This shouldn’t take long.”

He stared at his dad in wariness and confusion. “I was coming to you.”

“I know. I called Youngjae as I was leaving the meeting, but I figured since I was already in the building, and your mother and I haven’t seen you in a while, that I would drop by instead before going home. You know how your mom is. She’ll rip my head off if she finds out I didn’t check in on you.”

He hummed thoughtfully at the word ‘mom,’ thinking of his stepmother- the woman his father was referring to. His mother had passed away seventeen years ago, and his father had gotten remarried not even two years after her death. His stepmother was Sophia Wang, the daughter of their Chinese contact and Jackson’s mother. The board had approve of the marriage after finding that the couple had both lost their significant other to untimely deaths. Over the years of the marriage, she had gained his trust through his bond with Jackson and they had somewhat been a dysfunctional ‘family.’

He gestured to the six black leather armchairs surrounding a matching glass and wrought-iron coffee table in the center of his office. “You wanted to talk to me about something?”

“Yeah, have a seat,” his father repeated, taking a seat at random in one of the armchairs before gracefully crossing his legs.

Something in him burned with defiance. The dominant side of him leading him to sit in the armchair at the head. He leaned back in his seat, mirroring his father as he grit his teeth and braced himself for what his father wanted to speak to him about.

“About that CEO job,” his father began, and his stomach became a bottomless pit- his heart sinking into it. “Jaebum-ah, the board don’t think you’re ready for a responsibility as large as the CEO position.”

Anger seethed in him. “What?” he hissed at his father.

“Watch you tone, Jaebum! I may be here as your CEO, but I am also your father. Now, I didn’t make this decision alone, and you know that,” his father warned in a steely tone. “When they’re confident you can handle it, we’ll give you the position. For the time being, I’ll remain in that position until you can prove to them that you can step in and take over without running it into the ground.”

He was growing more and more livid. “Is this why I wasn’t informed of the board meeting? Because it seems like my position in the company was the main entrée for the shareholders to share and ravage at in this board meeting. It seems like the fucking snakes can only talking about me when I’m not present.”

“They’re afraid of you, son,” his father sighed. “Some people don’t understand your choice in… lifestyle.”

He chuckled darkly, licking at the corner of his lips. “What? That I’m openly gay in a society that’s close-minded? Or that I’m a dominant?”

His father winced slightly at the word ‘dominant.’ “It’s not normal, Jaebum. What you do to your partners, it’s not right.”

“Not right? What the fuck is _normal,_ Dad? And how is me having control over my _partners_ any different than you having control over _me_ , Dad?” he snarled at his father. His anger was at its breaking point and tipping over the edge dangerously. He scoffed, looking away from his father. “That was a stupid question. One I already know the answer to. You know what the difference is, Dad?” he asked rhetorically before he continued. “In a Dom-Sub relationship, the dom and sub actually take their partners’ needs into consideration. Something you’ve never done with me before.”

His father gnashed his teeth, and stood, taking a deep breathe. “I just don’t understand you, Jaebum,” his father sighed after a moment. “Everything I have ever done was _for you_ . I’ve tried to understand you and I’ve even come accept that I’ll never have grandchildren of my own blood, but this… this animosity you hold for me? I’ll never understand. This _lifestyle_ that you and Jackson have? _That_ I’ll never understand. I’ve never thought you to hit someone for the pleasure of it.”

He looked away from the man he once respected and looked up to. He looked out the window at the setting sun. His heart slowly beating as he looked at the light streaming past the mountains on the horizon and how fitting it was that it was probably signifying not just the closing of the day, but the closing of his relationship with his father. “It’s not a lifestyle, Dad. It’s me. _This…_ This is me. _This_ is who I am.”

His father took a side stepped until he was standing beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder, softly. “No, Jaebum. You’re more than that. You’re my son. You’re an Im,” Im Taek Geun choked out on a whisper to his son and only child before he left the room.

Time became as insignificant as he sat there looking out the window. The sun gave way to the night, and he sat there, holding his tears at bay. It wasn’t the first time his father had voiced his opinion about his ‘lifestyle,’ and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last- just like he was sure that the pain of being misunderstood would come again.

He stood and walked to the door, intending to let his secretary go for the day when his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and stared at the name across the screen blankly. _Youngjae,_ it read and he sighed, remembering belatedly that he was supposed to meet with his sub hours ago.

There was only one place in the world he felt the safest in. Only one place he can truly be himself.

He turned back to his desk and grabbed his keys out of his desk drawer before turning back to the door. He hit the accept icon and placed the phone by his ear.

“Meet me in an hour. You know where I want you at,” he said before he ended the call.

Only one place he felt in control and can control what was in it, and it was in the back room of his personal villa. _His playground._

 

 

 

 

_Like waves crashing on sand_

〆

Mark Tuan stared at his the plump, red faced chef in annoyance as he leaned up against the open doorway leading into the large kitchen. The man was highly irritating, but tonight, he was especially aggravating as he ordered the kitchen staff around like they worked for him and not with him. _Fucker isn’t even head chef,_ he thought briefly before he pushed off the wall and walked in, making his presence known.

“Mark! Get your ass moving!” the man yelled over the din of pots and pans banging against stainless steel and iron, and he arched an eyebrow in defiance. “We have important people to feed tonight, and your pretty face won’t save you when the boss comes in and finds you flirting with the wall.”

He rolled his eyes. Chef always found an excuse to sneer about his ‘pretty face.’ _That’s why Chef is especially uptight tonight,_ he thought as he grabbed a booklet off the counter, glancing briefly into it to make sure it didn’t have an order before he left the kitchen. He made his way to the reception desk where he found Namjoon standing stiffly.

“What’s up, man?” he greeted the younger man as he looked at the monitor designed to indicate which table were free in the restaurant.

“Hey, what’s up?” Namjoon greeted back before he snapped his gaze back on Mark. “Wait! Why are you here?”

“Cause I need to work,” he said slowly, straightening up. _Table 14,_ he mentally reminded himself.

“But isn’t today your birthday?” Namjoon asked in confusion. “I thought you took the day off.”

“I got bills to pay, man,” he answered in a sing-song tone as he walked away. “My pretty face ain’t gonna pay my bills.”

The younger chuckled. “That’s why I said to find yourself a sugar daddy,” Namjoon called after him, and he laughed.

He was just about to walk up to a nicely dressed couple when he noticed his boss standing across the room with a deep frown on his face. The man looked absolutely terrified and for a moment, he felt his stomach tighten, nervous knots forming and pulling. He averted his eyes away and hoped with all his might that his boss didn’t notice him working the floor. The last thing he needed was another long night serving obnoxious drunks- not when he had a long to-do list of research papers due in the next couple of days.

He briskly closed the gap between him and couple, forcing a smile on his face despite the knots now blocking blood flow to his feet. His knees felt weak with nervousness, but he steeled himself against it. “Good evening,” he greeted the couple, the nervousness he felt making his voice tremble. “I apologize for the wait. I can take you to your table now, whenever you’re ready. My name is Mark, by the way. I’ll he your host for tonight.”

The couple smiled warmly at him and some of his nerves disappeared. Unfortunately, the moment was short lived. Namjoon snuck up behind him grasping him at the elbow. “Mark, Boss wants a word with you,” the younger informed him in a somewhat hushed tone before he looked at the couple. “I’m sorry for the switch. I’ll be taking you to your table. Mark here is needed elsewhere, so I’ll be taking his place as your host. My name is Namjoon,” he greeted smoothly.

Mark forced the smile on his face further as he bowed in apology before he turned on his heels and glowered at his boss. Stalking towards the man, he felt the irritation growing, slowly overpowering the tension he felt from earlier. He expected the boss to be irritated with him as well, but was surprised when the man quickly pulled him into a quiet corner before he could even get a word out.

“Mark, listen to me carefully,” the man whispered, the obvious fear in his eyes radiating off his person, and the nervousness returned in full gear. “Jackson Wang is here with some of his associates, and I need you to be their host.”

“Jackson Wang?” he asked uneasily. The name ringing no bells of familiarity in his mind.

“The stepson of Im Group,” the man explained, but he shook his head, still not recognizing the name. “He’s a very valued customer, and I know I shouldn’t be asking you considering you’ve only been with us for a couple of weeks, but I can’t afford to piss him off. You’re our best host in-house right now. Please, Mark, I’m begging you. Serve them and play nice. I’ll even pay you overtime wages. You can have the next two days off as paid leave. I know your finals are coming up soon, so you need that time. All you have to do is take their orders and smile brightly.”

The man had him at ‘overtime wages,’ if he was being really honest, but he was still feeling wary. He hesitated for a breath. He couldn’t help but wonder what it was about this stepson that had his boss trembling in fear and offering an outrageous deal. He thought about it for a second. _It would be nice_ _to study without worrying about being short on rent money,_ he thought. He groaned. “Fine! Okay. I’ll do it,” he said sighing in defeat.

Boss released a sigh of relief and his apprehension amplified. “Thank you, Mark.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he muttered, already thinking about the thousand possible mistakes he can make.

“Mark, don’t fuck this up! Even as a stepson the man can put me out of business and you out of a job,” Boss gritted out. The man ran a hand through his black hair in frustration. “Just take their damn orders, smile and be nice.”

“Yeah, yeah… whatever. Take orders, smile, be nice- got it!” he said as he walked away. He walked back to Namjoon, who was again manning the reception desk, jabbing at the screen monitor.

As he came closer, he heard his friend muttering frustratedly at the gadget, “I hate this thing.”

He chuckled. “Alright, first things first,” he said, slamming his booklet on the desk and leaned his hip on it as he folded his arms across his chest, “who is this Jackson Wang, and why is he so important?”

Namjoon rounded on him. “You don’t know Jackson Wang?”

He curled his lips inward and shook his head.

“What the fuck, Mark! Jackson Wang is the stepson of Im Group- the largest group that deals in energy- everything from solar, wind and gas. They practically own the whole of South Korea, and then some. Jackson Wang is the largest shareholder of Wang Communications in China. Before his father passed away, Jackson was on his way to being an Olympic contender, but turned down the offer to attend Stanford University in America. The guy is not just brawns, but brains too apparently. When he graduated, he took his place as the CEO of Wang Communications.

Now, I’ve only ever seen Jackson, but from what I’ve seen in the papers, the real son and COO of Im Group is just as handsome as he is, if not more!”

“The real son?” he asked in confusion.

“Im Taek Geun, the CEO of Im Group, only had one child, Jaebum, from his first marriage. He married Jackson’s mom, Sophia Wang a couple of years after his first wife passed – which makes Jackson his stepson. What the fuck kind of business major, are you? You seriously need to catch up on current event, man,” Namjoon scolded, shaking his head in disapproval.

“Alright, whatever,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Where is this stepson?”

Someone cleared their throat from behind him and he panicked, pushing away from the desk. He winced, turning around to find a blonde man dressed in fine black silk, arching an eyebrow at him. “The stepson… he’s right behind you and heard every word you said,” Jackson Wang drawled. The deep timbre of his voice sending shivers up Mark’s spine.

All the air in his lungs left him before he gasped sharply, realizing belatedly what he had unknowingly done and froze. Jackson Wang’s hard coffee-brown eyes danced with amusement even as they pinned him in place. From the corner of his eyes, Namjoon head appeared beside his waist as the younger bowed in apology, tugging frantically at his vest.

“Mark,” Namjoon growled.

Snapping out of his daze, he bowed too. “Mr. Wang, I apologize for my rudeness. I meant-…”

“You meant every word you said,” Jackson Wang said, effectively cutting off the lame excuse that going to spill forth form his lips.

He mentally slapped his lips, wincing.

“You’re a wild little cat, aren’t you?” Jackson asked, stepping forward to grasp his chin and lift his head.

Jackson’s soft fresh rain scent filled his nostrils before he lifted his gaze to meet his eyes again and gasped, heart picking up an impossible pace. His ears ringing with panic. “N-No,” he stuttered. The nervous knots in his stomach tightened. There was a dangerous glitter in Jackson Wang’s eyes that made him feel uneasy. The harsh grasp on his chin became painful, but tender all at once and he couldn’t help the shiver that ran up his spine. “Please,” he mewled.

“Please, what?” Jackson asked softly with a tilt of his head. There was a small smile on his face and Mark cringed under that gaze, gritting his teeth against the pain.

“Please… Please, let me go.”

“Why should I?” he asked, tightening his grip

“I’m sorry, sir. I promise it won’t happen again,” he whimpered, trying not to move in the grasp of Jackson’s hand.

After a moment, Jackson released him. “I’m feeling nice tonight, and you’re pretty. I’ll give you a chance.”

“Thank you,” he sighed in relief. “Was there something you needed?”

“Restroom,” Jackson said.

He gaped at the man, confused between whether he was asking where the restroom was or if he was commanding Mark to go to the restroom.

“I need the restroom,” the man snapped impatiently.

He fumbled with his words, pointing to the little hallway leading to the restrooms. “R-r-right there, sir.”

Jackson Wang took two calculated steps away from them, in the direction of the restrooms before he turned back around and looked him dead in the eyes. “I expect you in the dining hall with a bottle of your best Bordeaux when I get back,” he said before he turned back around and left them gaping after him.

It was a chance indeed. Jackson had not only let him off the hook, but was also letting him remain as his host, and was about to further enrage the man. Before Namjoon could begin to make snide remarks at him, Mark made his way to the tiny cellar to search for Bordeaux. When he reached the cellar, he opened the door and slipped in letting it shut behind him before he sagged against it. His heart still pounding wildly from the encounter with the businessman.

Luckily, he didn’t have a problem finding an unopened bottle of Chateau Mouton, and quickly made his way to the large dining hall at the back of the restaurant. When he opened the door, a dozen men dressed just as expensively as Jackson, quieted and looked up at him. He smiled meekly and bowed over the bottle he held in his hands. Behind him the door opened, and Mark caught a whiff of Jackson’s cologne.

“Good evening, my name is Mark. I will be your host for tonight,” he greeted in a soft voice, letting just a little of the depth in his actual voice ring through it.

“Wow,” one of them exclaimed, while some clapped.

Jackson cleared his voice before he spoke. “Actually, you’ll be serving me only. Your friend will be serving the rest.”

His stomach twisted uneasily. “My friend?” he asked in confusion and Jackson arched an eyebrow at him. “Namjoonie?” he tried to clarify.

As if he was summoned, the door opened, and Namjoon stepped in with a bright smile. His round cheeks glowing a soft pink. “Good evening, I’m Namjoon,” he said in a loud, but shy voice.

The knowledge of Namjoon being with him made him relax a little and he found himself smiling along with his friend. He turned to Jackson, and swept his arm in front of him, making a show of playing the gracious host. Both the man’s eyebrows shot up his forehead before he frowned, but Mark kept the smile plastered on his face.

When Jackson sat, he turned to a corner where a cart of glasses stood ready to be filled, and carefully opened the bottle of Bordeaux. Namjoon followed suit, carrying a bottle of Corton Gracey. Mark couldn’t help but notice the difference in price between the port and the wine they held. It was obvious who made the bigger bucks. Suddenly, the tiny hairs on the nape of his neck stood on its ends and when he turned back, he faltered when his eyes met Jackson’s. There was a fleeting thoughtful expression on his face before he covered it up with the Cheshire smile Mark was becoming all too familiar with.

He took a deep breath and continued to his way towards Jackson. He reached over Jackson’s shoulder and placed the glass beside his plate.

“Thank you, Mark,” Jackson said softly and his breath hitched.

It was the first time Jackson had uttered his name, and was frankly surprised that man even remembered his name. Blushing, he smiled genuinely for the first time. It was odd how the two words were relaxing. “You’re welcome, sir,” he said quietly, barely over a whisper.

As the meal progress, Mark noticed how Jackson would occasionally turn his head to glance at him or thank him for every dish he placed before him, always with the same thoughtful expression. Odd as it was, he couldn’t help but feel satisfied that everything was going well and he seemed to have gained back Jackson’s favor. One by one, each of Namjoon’s patrons began to leave until the last one stood to leave and Jackson was still sitting in his seat, slightly buzzed, but very much coherent. Namjoon began to clear the last of the dishes and Mark moved to help the younger, but Jackson caught his wrist.

Mark flinched, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath and turned to look where they were connected. His thin wrist easily wrapped in Jackson’s larger grasp. He lifted his gaze to Jackson’s face, arching a brow at him in question. “Did you need anything else, sir?”

Jackson growled, white teeth flashing through pink lips. “Namjoon, get out of here.”

From the corner of his eyes, Mark saw Namjoon nearly drop a plate in his shock, and his heart began to beat rapidly - fear creeping under his skin. He began to panic. Namjoon straightened and Mark was sure he was going to protest, but Jackson shut him down before he could even utter a word. “I want to talk to Mark alone. Leave now, Namjoon or I’ll get you fired.”

Namjoon sputtered, and he began to panic even more, but he crushed the fear with a painful swallow. He was positive Jackson was going to lecture him on his choice of gossip and he readied himself for it. “It's fine, Namjoonie. I got this.”

“Mark,” Namjoon said uncertainly, so he turned his head to the younger and nodded consolingly.

“It's fine,” he repeated before turning back to Jackson. Namjoon hesitated for a second before he stalked out of the room.

“Sit,” Jackson commanded as soon as the door clicked shut behind Namjoon – never releasing his wrist, but it did loosen slightly.

Sighing, he pulled a chair out and sat. Jackson tilted his head, observing him curiously. The same unreadable expression was back on his face, and Mark grew more and more uncertain why Jackson wanted to talk to him privately. They stayed that way, staring at each other, for couple of minutes before Jackson shook his head, finally releasing his wrist, and muttered something under his breath. Mark strained to hear him, but the words were too soft even in the quietness of the room.

“What?” he asked.

“I said, ‘there’s no way in hell you could be one,’” Jackson replied with a sigh of frustration. “But you would make a damn good one.”

“Be what?” he asked just as frustratedly. The whole situation was becoming more and more odd.

Jackson didn’t reply to the question, choosing to look at him again as if silently contemplating something. “What do you do, Mark?” he asked suddenly.

Mark frowned in confusion at the question. “What?”

“I mean, other than wait tables. What do you do? You’re obviously American. What brought you to South Korea? It’s hardly a place a typical American just ups and leaves his hometown for.”

“I’m an exchange student,” he replied in a clipped tone.

“How much longer do you have here in Korea?”

“About eight months,” he replied before long.

“Will you be done with school entirely after the eight months?”

“Yes.”

Jackson nodded slowly as if coming to a decision. “How would you like to make bigger bucks?” he asked. The dangerous sparks his eyes were back and the uneasy feeling came back in full force.

“Are you making me a job offer?” he asked in surprise.

“Of sorts,” Jackson replied, shrugging. “Are you interested?”

“Let’s say I am. What does the job entitle?” he asked warily.

Jackson wagged a finger at him, shaking his head as he pursed his lip. “Yes or no, Mark.”

 _Work for Jackson Wang?_ Mark thought for a second. “I’ll have to think about it.”

Jackson nodded as he stood, seeming somewhat satisfied with his answer. “You’re smart, Mark. I like that.” He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a card. Flipping it over to the back, he laid it on the table and leaned across until their faces were mere centimeters from each other.

Mark’s breath caught in his throat at the close proximity. The man merely smirked before he reached forward and pulled his pen out of the front of his apron, and wink. “I needed your pen,” he whispered, and Mark snarled.

Chuckling, Jackson took a step back to lean over the card. He scribbled something into the empty space of the card before handing it to him. “Yes or no, Mark. If you're answer is yes, meet me at that address on Saturday. If you don’t show, I’ll see you the week after.”

Mark frowned at him. “Are you threatening me, sir?”

Jackson reached across the table and grasped him by the chin again. His eyes grew darker and his smirk widened into a grin as his thumb tugged at his bottom lip that he didn’t realize was caught between his teeth. “You need to stop calling me ‘sir,’ or I might do something I’ll regret,” Jackson whispered softly.

Mark inhaled sharply at the statement. He tried to pull away, struggling for the upper hand, but Jackson held him firmly in place. He glared at Jackson. “Let me go,” he sneered.

“Fuck this,” Jackson growled, bending over and their lips met roughly in kiss. Surprised, he gasped and Jackson took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, poked his tongue out to taste him.

Their tongues met and excitement shot through him on rapid fire. He tried to push the blonde away, but just as he placed his hand on Jackson’s shoulders to push, the kiss became soft tugs to his bottom lip, and a whimper escaped from him. He knew it was wrong. The man just propositioned him, but the kiss was delicious, and he couldn’t help, but want more.

His hands betrayed him and clenched at Jackson’s shoulders instinctively, and the blonde came around the table pulling him close until their erections were caught between their molded bodies. Although Jackson’s hands were gentle as they held him tight at his wait, his kisses became hungry and rough. A tad painful, but just enough to keep him aware of who held the advantage between the two of them. It was just enough to excite him – enough for his heart to thrum with need – enough to leave him breathless, when the blonde pulled away with a groan, leaning his forehead against his.

“I want you, Mark,” Jackson panted, and the spell around them broke.

He snapped out of lustful daze he was in and pushed the blonde away, stumbling backwards into the chair he was sitting in as his hand flew up to his mouth. _What have I done?_ He panicked. His hand trembled as they touched his lips. _I kissed Jackson,_ he realized, panic rising rapidly. _No! He kissed me. Shit! I can’t breathe! Oh my god, I can’t breathe._

Blindly, he ran out the room, stumbling into the hallways, passing a stunned Namjoon and out the back door of the restaurant. The first prick of the frigid air hit him and he drew in a deep, sharp inhale like he had been held underwater for too long and just broke surface. Slowly, his vision became his own again. He found himself thankfully bent over, one hand bracing himself on a wall and the other on his knee to balance his weigh, and was glad that he had at least half a mind to not get his dress pants dirty.

The doorknob began to jiggle behind him and he turned expecting Namjoon to emerge, and instead Jackson’s blonde head came peeking from behind the door before he stepped out into the alleyway. “Are you okay?” he asked, his face pinched with concern.

He nodded, feeling a little of the uneasiness return.

“Good, good,” Jackson said absentmindedly as he stuffed his hands into his pants pockets. “I would apologize for kissing you, but it’ll be a baseless apology. I don’t regret doing it, Mark but I can promise you it won’t happen again without your permission.”

He glared at the man. “Apologize?” he scoffed, looking away. He didn’t know where the bravery came from, but he wasn’t going to let go to waste. “Just leave, and don’t appear in front of me again.”

“I won’t,” Jackson said with a smirk, seemingly unafraid and dread filled him. “You’ll come to me, Mark. Sooner or later - you’ll come to me.”

There was a sure confidence in the blonde’s voice and Mark could already see the future he had envision for himself begin to slip between his grasp, like water. “Go fucking die,” he sneered instead.

Jackson chuckled loudly and it echoed in the dark alleyway as he turned to walk to the end of the alley. “By next weekend, you’ll be dying to come to me, Markiepooh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are most welcome :)


	3. The Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark comes to a few revelation with the help of his friend and roommate Peniel while Jaebum struggles between keeping family and business separate

_The Devil_

_Chapter II_

_How much will you spend worrying?_

〆

Mark began to tune out the professor’s monotone lecture the minute he whipped out his notebook. It’s been five days since Jackson Wang left him standing in the alley behind the Twisted Dragon restaurant, and his thoughts were still scattered. It was as if Jackson had turned his world upside down and scattered the piece only to stand in the middle as a focal point for his mind to wonder back to.

Strange enough as the encounter was, Mark couldn’t stop thinking about what the blonde had said. No matter how he thought about it, the conviction in Jackson’s voice made him feel uneasy. There was no way of knowing just how powerful Jackson was, but if his boss was afraid of the man, it was enough to leave him with a nervous feeling about the whole situation.

 _What does Jackson want from me?_ He couldn’t help but wonder. _What is this job he’s so intent on giving me, and why me? What was so important and secretive about it that Jackson can’t even tell me what it entailed? And that kiss! Why did he kiss me? Better yet, why did I kiss him back?_

Like the process of mitosis, one question became two, and two became four, and soon his head began to ache with the plethora of unanswered questions just floating around in his head. It was eating at him slowly and frankly driving him crazy.

He groaned in frustration, finally opening his notebook determined to take notes. There was a knock at the door and the subject of his thoughts poked his head through with a bright smile before he caught the professor’s eyes.

“Professor Kim,” Jackson called cheerily, stepping into the room.

The old professor hobbled to the blonde and drew him into a tight embrace. “Jackson-ah, long time no see,” Professor Kim said, switching into a fond tone, deeply contrasting with how he gave his formal lectures. “Come in. Come in. You’re early. I was just about to announce that you would be our guest speaker for today. How have you been, you rascal?”

A hyena laugh erupted from Jackson and his eyes twinkled with mischief. “I’ve been well. How have you been, sir?”

“Good. Good,” the professor nodded, smiling brightly.

“I was already in the area, so I thought I’d just come in and sit around until the set time,” Jackson said as he looked around the classroom as if searching for something.

Their eyes met and Jackson’s cheery, bright smile dwindled down into a sly smirk. Mark cringed into his seat, feel like he had been stripped off of all his clothing. The lecture hall suddenly felt too small. Somehow, Mark was almost certain that what was supposed to be a coincidental meeting became a hidden agenda, and he was seething.

“Well then, have a seat. I’ll be done in a few slides and then you can give your brief. Thank you for accepting the invitation, Jackson. I know how busy you are now that you’ve taken over responsibilities of your father company.”

Jackson smiled at the old man. “It’s my pleasure, sir,” he said briefly before he moved away to take a seat. The blonde made his way up the steps and sat right beside him. “Hello, Markie,” he whispered in greeting, smile never leaving his face.

“So, you’re stalking me now?” he asked, intent on squeezing at least one answer from the blonde.

“Oh, no, Markie,” Jackson sang. “I was scheduled to be a guest even before you signed up for this class.”

“Yeah, like I would believe that,” he scoffed. “If you’re here to get an answer from me, you wasted your time. My answer remains the same. I don’t care how much you plan on paying me, I’m not gonna be your bitch or your lackey.”

“I’m not asking you to be my bitch or my lackey,” Jackson hissed at him.

He twisted around to scoff at the blonde sitting stiffly beside him. There was a scowl on his face and Mark was sure he was slightly annoyed. His hands that were laced together, clenched hard around each other, turning pale in their grip.

Feeling satisfied that he had gotten under the blonde’s skin for once, he pushed. “Then what? Your whore? If you need a bedmate, Mr. Wang, you came to the wrong person. I don’t need a sponsor.”

Jackson flinched beside him. The muscles of his arm flexing against his as they twitched beneath his black blazer. “I don’t pay for sex,” the man said through gritted teeth.

He smiled. “Could’ve fooled me,” he said softly, feigning surprise and amusement.

Jackson unthreaded his hands and snaked it under the desk to settle on his thigh. The side of his pink just inches from his traitorous cock that twitched at the contact. Heat seeped through his tight jeans, and crept up his spine to his cheeks and the tip of his ears. Ever so slowly, Jackson began to play with the seam of his jeans and his breathing became more and more shallow. “Well, your mouth may have fooled me once, Mark but rest of your body speaks a different truth. You want me, just as much as I want you, but I have plans for you. Much better, great plans,” Jackson said as he pulled away.

The blonde stood, and he closed his eyes, angry that he had lost yet another bickering with the man. He willed his erection to go down before he opened his eyes again. Jackson now stood in front of the class with the same bright smile he came in with, and it angered him even more. Here he was fighting an erection and the blonde stood there seemingly unaffected by him. It irked him just how unattached Jackson was. _Damn him!_ Mark seethed in frustration.

As mad as he was at the blonde, his erection eventually died down and he found himself pay rapt attention to everything Jackson said. He had to admit that Jackson, as childish as he was, actually knew his way in the business world. The man was a walking wealth of not just riches, but brains as well. It was nothing short of amazing. For an heir, Jackson had a lot to offer in the form of advice, tricks and tips in economics and finances. By the end of the class, he was feeling quietly confident that the business route he was taking was the best road he’d ever taken. When Jackson closed his lecture, the class erupted in applause, some of classmates even went as far as standing up.

He scoffed in annoyance, standing from his chair. He placed his bag on the table and began to gather his belongings to put away. _If only you all really knew what kind of man Jackson Wang was,_ he thought to himself.

“Do you make it a habit to talk about others behind their backs, Mark?” Jackson asked from beside him.

He snapped his gaze up from his backpack and gaped at the blonde. “What?”

“Just what kind of man do you take me for?” Jackson asked with an arch of his brow.

He looked away, tilting his head to one side in confusion. _Did I say that out loud?_ he mentally asked himself with a click of his tongue. “Do you make it habit to eavesdrop?” he asked out loud instead.

Jackson chuckled.

He placed the last of his belongings in his bag and zipped it. “What do you want from me, Mr. Wang?” he asked as he slide an arm through a strap and settled the bag against his back.

“No ‘sir’ today?” the blonde teased.

“Not if the results are your lips on mine again,” he spat out bluntly, stepping forward, intending to crowd Jackson’s space, but there was a shift in the air as he stepped forward. There was a glittering in Jackson’s eyes, and he stumbled right into the blonde’s arms.

“Are you sure about that, Markie?” Jackson whispered into his ear, and a shiver swept through him.

He straightened up and pushed the blonde away. “Positive,” he sneered, pushing past him. “I need to leave,” he muttered as he sped up for the door.

“Wait, Mark,” Jackson called out, jogging to catch up. “Okay. I’ll stop.”

He scoffed disbelievingly. He skidded to a stop, and rounded on the blonde. “Look, Mr. Wang. For the final time, I’m not interested in what you have to offer, whether or not it’s in or out of the bedroom. I just want to graduate and go back home. I don’t have the time nor the brain capacity to play whatever games you have in mind. So, please, just leave me alone,” he begged.

Jackson sighed. “Mark, I don’t want to hinder you from fulfilling your plans for your future. That’s yours and we can keep it that way. Just… give me a chance. If you find, you don’t like it, you can leave – at any time.”

He looked the blonde in the eyes. There was a quiet desperation in them that he found odd. He closed his eyes and sighed. His will cracking under the puppy eyes. _What is it about this job that Jackson is desperate to fill?_ “If I walk away, will you promise to leave me alone?” he asked without opening his eyes.

“Yes,” Jackson said in a hopeful tone. “I promise.”

He opened his eyes and studied the blonde. “Give me some time to think about this.”

“I stand by my word, Mark. I’m giving you until next Saturday. Come to the address I gave you. If you don’t show, you’ll be forcing my hand.”

He rolled his eyes. “Just when I thought we were finally on the same page, you go and ruin it again. Honestly-…” he scowled, shaking his head at the blonde. He began to walk away again and notice that no one was bumping elbows with him like usual. The crowd of students hovered at either side of the hallway staring at them, and he frowned.

Jackson caught up with him again, and he stopped, turning to the blonde again. “What? What, now?” he asked in desperation.

“What?” Jackson asked back innocently.

“Why are you following me?”

“Can’t I?”

“No.”

Jackson’s shoulders sagged and the puppy dog eyes came back again with an adorable pout. He gaped at the man. _The duality of this man was astounding,_ he thought, softening. He shook his head and began to walk away. He led them into the courtyard before he turned on the man again. “Mr. Wang, please. I already said I would think about it. What more do you want from me?”

“Do you have another class to attend today?” the blonde asked instead of answering his question.

He sighed in exasperation. “No.”

“Then where are you going?”

“I’m trying to get away from you!” he screeched.

“Why?” Jackson asked, clearly confused by the confession.

He shook his head again. “You may be used to people paying attention to you, Mr. Wang, but how am I going to make a clear decision if you’re constantly hovering over my shoulder.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to make a clear decision,” the blonde practically confessed.

“Will you at least tell me what this job entails?”

“You’ll find out on Saturday,” the blonde said vaguely.

“Fine,” he snapped. “I’ll be there!”

Jackson smiled brightly, and he was reminded of a child for a moment. “Will you let me take you home too?”

He stumped his feet in frustration. “No!”

“I can pick you up on Saturday, if you need a ride,” Jackson offered.

He thought about it, and whined. “Fine,” he said before he began to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Jackson asked.

He froze in place. _I don’t know._ He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before he turned back around and looked at the annoying blonde. Jackson smiled cheekily and stuck a thumb out, indicating behind him. “I’m parked over there.”

He bite his tongue. _Breathe, Mark,_ he reminded himself. He walked back to the blonde. “Then let’s go,” he gritted, feeling like a fool, as he walked in the general direction of the parking lot. “I fucking hate you!” he sneered as he passed the blonde, and Jackson simply chuckled.

They walked in silence for a while before Jackson spoke. “You’re a fiery little kitten, aren’t you?” he asked, looking down at the ground.

He glanced over at the blonde. “Only when people annoy me,” he replied.

Jackson chuckled softly, murmuring something under his breath.

“What?” he asked.

Jackson looked at him questioningly.

“What did you say?”

Jackson’s lips turned down at the corners as he shook his head. “Just thinking to myself.”

“Don’t you have better things to do than stalk college students? Like run a major company,” he asked.

Jackson’s lips gathered in one corner. “I don’t actually do much, or at least not as much as my COO or CFO. I get final say on decisions concerning the company on a corporate level, but when things pass my desk, the decision is usually already final.”

He nodded. “Must be easy.”

“It’s completely boring, if I’m being honest,” the blonde replied, reaching out to grasp his elbow to stop him. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped on the screen a few times before he looked up and met his eyes. “Texting the driver,” he said briefly in explanation.

“I-I thought you said - …” he began to say, but realized that Jackson never actually said he was driving. “Never mind,” he said with a shake of his head.

Jackson eyed his curiously. Whatever the blonde was about to say was lost a minute later when a silver Rolls Royce rolled up before them. The driver stepped out of the vehicle and opened the back seat door for them. Jackson gestured to the open door and he ducked his head and slid in. The black leather seat squeaked as he slid to the other making space for Jackson to slide in after him, and he blushed at the sinful thoughts that filled his mind.

When Jackson slid in, the driver closed the door and slid into the driver’s seat and the car began to move immediately. As they exited the campus, Mark realized he didn’t give the driver his address, but they were going in the right direction and he turn to glare at the blonde. “You know where I live, don’t you?”

Jackson simply grinned at him.

“Unbe-fucking-lievable,” he muttered under his breath, turning to look away from the blonde.

“It was the only way I could keep you for a little longer,” Jackson confessed cheekily.

He groaned at his stupidity. He had played right into Jackson’s hand.

“Mark, all I need is your word that you will show up next Saturday.”

“I said I would think about it,” he snapped impatiently.

“Watch your tone,” Jackson warned.

“Or what?” he shot back, turning to glare at the blonde again.

Suddenly, he felt a hand grasp him by the neck and pulled him forward. Jackson’s lips were on his in a flash, and there was a fight for dominance. Before he could stop himself, he was sinking into the kiss, succumbing to the sweetness that was Jackson Wang.

At first, it was different from their first kiss. Jackson’s lips were sinfully soft and coaxing against his, despite the tight grip the blonde had on his nape. Then, it switched. The grasp became soft and the kiss became hungrier as it was prolonged. Soft whimpers escaped him, and he was kissing back with as much passion as Jackson was giving. Jackson’s heart thumped rapidly under the palm of his hand he had placed on the blonde’s chest to brace himself from impact. Slowly, Jackson began to withdraw from him, and he whined. “Fuck, Mark. I can get addicted to this,” the blonde groaned, pulling away.

He gasped, pushing away from the man. “Why did you do that?”

Jackson shrugged. “Cause I felt like it,” he replied nonchalantly.

He shook his head to clear it, sputtering, “You’re way too impulsive for my liking.”

“Oh, Mark. Don’t act like you didn’t want it as much as I did.”

He scoffed in disbelief at the blonde’s audacity, but he couldn’t deny it when he was as erect as he was in the classroom. The rest of the ride was spent in silence, both lost in thought, and when the car came to a stop, he made a grab for the door handle only to find there was none. The driver exited and came around to open his door. Before he could move to get out, Jackson grabbed his wrist again and he turned to arch an eyebrow at the man.

There was an unreadable look on Jackson’s face and whatever anger he felt drained out of him. It was mixture between pleading and determination, and something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Mark, I hope you do show up. I promise you won’t regret it.”

He frowned. “I just don’t understand why you’re so set on _me_ accepting this job.”

“I see something in you that I like.”

He frowned. “Just that? You see something in me that _you_ like?”

Jackson nodded slowly. “I have a feeling that you’re perfect for the job in mind.”

He looked out the front window of the car, contemplating. “You’re aware that I plan on leaving this place in eight months, right?”

Jackson nodded again. “If I’m right and things work out as planned, you won’t ever want to leave.”

He huffed out a breath, looking back at the blonde. “We’ll see about that. What time on Saturday?”

Jackson’s expression broke out into an excited, hopeful smile, but he looked slightly wary. “Nine p.m.”

He twisted his hand out of Jackson’s grasp, turning to get out again. “Come and get me then. If you’re one minute late, I’m cancelling altogether and you can forget about ever coming to me again.” Before he could even set both feet on the pavement to stand up, Jackson wounded an arm around his waist and tugged him back into the car. He gasped in yelped in surprise, turning to yell to Jackson, but the blonde’s lips were on his again – his tongue delving as if trying to taste all of him. With his back flush against Jackson’s hard chest, his range of movement was limited, so he reached back to thread his hand through blonde locks. He intended to yank on it, but Jackson had been right, it was addicting and soon he was returning the blonde’s kiss yet again, pulling him closer. The arm around his waist tightened fractionally and he was being pulled into Jackson’s lap.

In a brief moment of clarity, he found himself twisting in the blonde’s hold to straddle him, and he smirked as he leaned back in to kiss Jackson. _Two can play this game, Jackson Wang,_ he thought as he tilted his head and kissed the blonde deeper, gyrating his hips. Even through the layers of clothing that separated them, Mark was well aware of the blonde’s erection that was caught between their thighs.

When he pulled away to suck in a breath, Jackson followed to nibble at his throat.

“Fuck, Mark,” the blonde groaned against his skin, hot breath sweeping against his pulse as his hands traveled downwards to cup his cock in his hand. His back instinctively arched against the palm, seeking the friction it offered. “You’re so fucking addicting, but I don’t like taking orders,” Jackson growled.

It was all the warning he got before Jackson sank his teeth into his neck and pressed down on his erection. He gasp as pain shot down to his cock as pleasure shot upwards to compensate for the pain. His body was at war with itself, and he was gasping in the wake of its turmoil. Confusion racked him even as he mewled. He didn’t know if he wanted more or to slip out of Jackson’s arms and run.

“Jackson,” he whimpered.

“It’s sir,” Jackson replied, licking at the bite. He gasp, pleasure running through him again, but Jackson began to push him away, slightly panting. The push was not strong enough to have sprawling on the floor, but it was enough to push him away from Jackson’s growing erection. “You need to leave now, Mark,” the blonde reminded him after a moment - his expression back to appearing nonchalant.

Now more confused than ever and slightly hurt, he scrambled out of the car and ran for his door. He didn’t bother to look back. He didn’t hear the car door close, but somehow he knew Jackson was watching him.

 

 

_How much time are you gonna spend worrying?_

〆

He didn’t know how he made it past the doors, up the elevator, and into his apartment, or even how he managed to punch in the code into the door with how his hands were trembling, but as soon as he closed the door behind him he sagged against it. Tears welled up in his eyes as flashes of Jackson’s face appeared before him. The sting of being spurned burned through him.

 _Fuck you! Fuck you, Jackson Wang,_ he screamed internally.

There was a scramble of footsteps and his name being called before the image of Peniel appeared through the blur of his tears. “P,” he hiccupped, crawling to his friend.

“What happened? Who was that, Mark?” Peniel asked, kneeling down to pull him into a tight embrace.

He couldn’t answer, too embarrassed by being pushed away. He simply shook his head, and Peniel didn’t ask any other question and picked him off the floor. When he had finally found the will to stop crying, he was bundled up to the chin and laying in his best friend’s arms. He didn’t have look to know that Peniel was awake, so he just started talking.

“He confuses me, that’s all,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Does he hurt you?” Peniel asked, concern clear in his voice.

Suddenly, he remembered the bite, and blushed as he scrambled off the bed and to the adjoining bathroom to examine the area. It was purpling, dotted red where Jackson’s canines had been, but it wasn’t too bad. It was nothing a little makeup won’t cover, but it was there without his permission, and that’s what bothered him the most. Peniel came walking into the bathroom and their eyes met in the mirror before his friend’s eyes shifted to the bite mark looming just above his collar.

“Mark - …” Peniel began to say, tilting his head to one side as his brows furrowed in concern – his shoulders tensing up.

“It was an accident!” he said defensively, waving his hands in front of him.

Peniel’s face sagged with sardonicism. “That’s what all victims of domestic violence say.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes heavenward. “Okay, so it wasn’t exactly consensually given, but it was definitely in the sensual nature.”

Peniel straightened, arching his brows. “So let me get this straight… you just met a guy – a rich guy at that – make out with said rich guy and he just happened to get too handsy – or mouthy – whichever term you prefer. He bites you, drops you off here crying, but you’re defending his actions?”

Mark fidgeted. “Well, when you put it that way it just sounds like I want him,” he said slowly. _Do I want him?_  he thought to himself.

“Do you?” Peniel asked curiously, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

He groaned, turning to his best friend. “I don’t know,” he whined, pouting.

“Who is this rich guy by the way?”

“Jackson Wa-…” he barely got the name out before Peniel was balling over in laughter.

“Seriously, Mark,” Peniel wheezed out. “Jackson Wang? The CEO of Wang Communications? I mean, you’re cute and you have a pretty face and all, but Jackson Wang? You must be mistaken. There’s only one type of person and you’re far from his type.”

He stared at his friend with a deadpanned, serious face. _How the fuck does everyone know about Jackson Wang and I don’t?_

“Oh my God,” Peniel squeaked. “You’re serious!” His best friend stepped forward and grasped his shoulders, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

“You know he’s a dom, right?” Peniel asked warily, looking into his eyes with concern.

“A what?”

“A dom… Dominant? You are familiar with BDSM, right? Like hardcore sex involving whips, chains, paddles,” his friend began to elaborate and he shook his head. “Mark, you need to stop seeing him. You’re hardly the submissive type.”

“I’m familiar with what BDSM is, but I doubt that’s what he wants me for. He made me a job offer,” he said naively.

“Mark, you don’t just walk into this apartment crying, show me a bite mark, and expect me to think that a notorious dominant doesn’t want you to be his submissive.”

“No, he made me the offer and things just went too far.”

“What is this job he’s offering?” his best friend asked suspiciously.

He thought about it. “I don’t know,” he finally said after a while with a sigh. “He won’t tell me.”

“Then I’m positive he wants you to be his sub,” Peniel said nodding his head. “Look, Mark, I love you, baby, but I just don’t think that’s the life for you. I mean, you can barely keep comments to yourself and when you get angry, you _really_ get angry. You’re just not the submissive type. You need to stay away from him.”

He frowned. As much as he hate admit Peniel was probably right, he couldn’t help but think about the blonde. Something about Jackson’s behavior irked him, but pulled him in as well. He may have been rough at times, but there was a gentleness to him that Mark found interesting. Something about the man piqued at him, and he wanted more than anything to see that side of Jackson Wang – the side that no one else has ever seen.

“Oh, no,” Peniel groaned. “I know that look, Mark,” he said, shaking his head. “When you get that look, trouble usually ensues.”

He scoffed, pushing past his friend to walk back into his room. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course not because you’re not the one that sees the look that you get,” Peniel shot at him.

He simply giggled. “I just had a thought that’s all. Whether I act on that thought all depends on Jackson.”

Peniel regarded him for a minute before walking to him and hugging him. “Whatever you decide, Mark just know that I’m always here for you. I’ll always protect you. You’re my best friend and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

That brought a smile back to his face. “I know, P and that’s what I love about you. You’re always there for me no matter what. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Peniel whispered against his shoulder.

  


_It’s alright if you hesitate for a bit_

〆

After the talk he had had with Peniel the other day, it seemed that only more questions rose as some were being answered, but one question now stuck out from the rest: _Does he want me to be his sub?_

Every time he came full circle to the question again, the more ridiculous the situation became. _Of all the people in the world, why would Jackson Wang want me to be his sub?_ he thought to himself. _I’m not exactly sub material, am I? Do I give off the ‘sub’ vibe?_

He sighed heavily, tossing onto his back on his queen-size bed for what seemed like the thousandth time. He was looking up at the ceiling, but not actually seeing it. His mind was clouded with visions of Jackson’s brown eyes filled with something he couldn’t quite grasp. He thought about their first meeting and groaned at the signs he had subconsciously given. Memories of his quiet meek ways flooded his mind and the way he had timidly submitted to the blonde’s kiss, Mark was ready to smack himself as hard as he possibly could. Instead, he found himself pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

He released his lip and scrunched his nose in annoyance before they flared in anger. _How dare he assume that I would bring myself down to_ that _level and let someone degrade me? What does that man take me for?_ With that thought in mind, he finally flopped to one side with his decision and fell asleep. 

When morning finally came, he cornered Peniel in the kitchen as he was making breakfast for the two of them. “P, do I really seem like the sub type?” he asked in frustration.

Peniel’s brow shot up at the sudden question. His best friend turned back to the eggs he was scrambling and apprehension bubbled in him slowly. After what seemed like forever, Peniel finally turned the stove off and began to spill the eggs into a saucer.

“Honestly?” his friend asked.

“Well, yeah,” he replied wincing. Years of friendship told him that Peniel only asked that when he thought he was hanging on a frayed thread. “I don’t want you to lie to me.”

“Okay,” Peniel said before he turned his body to full address the question. “Yes, in some ways, you do give off that sub type and other times, you don’t. I don’t know if that made any sense, but you kinda have a tendency to be lead instead of actually lead.”

He frowned, sinking into thought. “You make me sound like a puppy,” he pouted, subtly kicking the conversation into a different direction when he caught Peniel beginning to panic at his silence.

“Right now, you’re reminding me of one of those cute, fluffy lapdogs,” his friend drawled and he laughed.

“I would ruffle your hair, but you don’t have any,” he shot back before skillfully dodging the fist his friend was aiming at his arm, laughing.

“Bitch,” Peniel snarled at him.

His laughter died to a chuckle and he stepped into Peniel’s space to peck him on the cheek. “You love me,” he reminded and the other man joined his mirth.

“That I do,” his friend said sighing happily. “So what do you have planned for this weekend?”

He huffed exasperatedly, rolling his eyes as he took a seat at their old rickety dining table. “Avoid Jackson Wang.”

Peniel scoffed placing the plate of eggs on the table with another stacked high with toast. “Does that mean you’re free?” he asked in confusion.

“Yes.”

“Then why not join us at the club?” his friend asked. “All the boys will be there. You never know. You might even find someone and get laid – get rid of whatever sexual frustration you might be harboring.”

He scowled exaggeratingly at his friend. “I don’t need to get laid,” he hissed.

Peniel hummed a sarcastic agreement, arching a brow before walking back into the kitchen. “Says the guy that came in crying the other day with a huge ass bite mark on his neck and job offering to be a submissive. Oh wait, that was you, _Mark,_ ” he teased, dragging to middle of his name.

Pretending to feel insulted, he picked up a fluff of golden scrambled eggs and threw it at the man. He wasn’t at all surprised when it landed short of Peniel and on the floor with a resounding wet squelch. They both watched it land before they looked up at each other and burst into fits of laughter. As they sobered, Peniel walked to him and cupped his face, looking deep into his eyes. Despite his laughter still shining in his brown eyes, there was a seriousness there that shined brighter, and he couldn’t look away.

“Be honest with me,” Peniel said, and he nodded within his hold. “Do you want to learn about it?”

“Learn about what?” he asked in confusion.

“BDSM.”

He bit his lip, rolling the thought in his mind. “I won’t deny that I’m interested in it on an educational level, but I don’t know, P. Being bound? Roleplaying? Not to mention getting hit for someone else’s pleasure? Even just the thought of submitting to someone, sounds degrading.”

Peniel frowned at him before shaking his head disapprovingly. “Not just for someone else’s pleasure, but yours too. It’s not just about submitting.”

“But isn’t that the heart of it though? One dominating and the other submitting?” he asked, his attention solely on Peniel now.

“I like to think of it as one leading and the other following. Submitting to a dom isn’t about putting yourself down. It’s about mutual trust. Some people just like being led instead of being the one to lead, and vice versa.”

He nodded, slipping back into thought and Peniel left the dining room to get the rest of their breakfast. _Maybe what I’ve been thinking about this whole BDSM thing is wrong. It sounds interesting, but is it something I want to try? Maybe Jackson doesn’t even need me as a sub. Maybe he really is just offering me a nine to five._

He shrugged to himself, sitting down and looking at the spread before him on the table. _I need food!_ he thought to himself, eyeing the toast with a different kind of hunger as Peniel walked back in with a cake brandished with candles in one hand and a nicely wrapped package in the other.

He softened. “P - …” he began to say.

“Now, I’m sorry I missed your birthday, but I would never forget it,” his friend said smiling as he placed the cake on the table. “I wanted to celebrate it with you after everyone so it’ll be more memorable.”

“My birthday was last week.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t see you for that whole week because you have that abominable job, which you technically don’t need, and school on top of it,” his friend reasoned.

“Just admit you forgot about it,” he said laughing at the lame excuse, and Peniel gasped.

“Okay, I did, but at least, you didn’t have to remind me!”

He pulled Peniel towards him and landed a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”

His friend smiled. “Happy Birthday, Mark. Now, make a wish, and blow your candles.”

“I just want to be happy,” he said with a shrug before he blew at the flickering flames of the candles.

Peniel just smiled at him wistfully.

 

 

 

 

_I can see that you’re having different thoughts_

〆

The first thing Jaebum notices when he gets home and enters his study is Jackson, dressed stylishly in all black and leaning back in his seat, knees bouncing as if he’s ready to bolt from the room at any given moment, but he knows better. Having lived with the younger for four years before they went their separate ways for college, he knows that the younger is feeling giddy. He has a secret and can’t hold it in anymore.

“What’s got you so excited?” he asks as he pours them a glass of bourbon. “And what are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” Jackson said as he accepted the proffered glass from his hand and raised it salute. “Just wanted to see how things were going with the new guy.”

He sighed, doing the same before taking a sip from his glass as he sat at his desk. “I’m ending it. He’s a good sub. A really good one,” he finally answered, shaking his head.

“But?” he asked as he leaned forward, hanging on to his every word.

“He’s too _good_ ,” he said before he took another sip from his glass, eyes enlarging as he emphasized on the ‘good.’

“No fun?”

He shook his head. “The desire is there – the need, but no passion. It seems more… obligatory?” He winced, but Jackson nodded as if understand, even if he was baffled by what he was even saying. “Anyways, what have you been up to these days? You never answered my first question.”

Jackson frowned nonchalantly as he shrugged his shoulders in a wave-like motion. “Not much. I’ve been busy with a potential new toy.”

“New toy?”

“You have to see him, Hyung. He’s fierce – I’m sure he’s got claws. He has this spark that gets me excited to play. I want to break him.”

“Break him? So, he’s not a sub?” he asked with a frown of his own.

Jackson chuckled. “Not yet.”

He arched his brows at his stepbrother in amusement. “Not yet?”

Jackson sighed heavily, sitting back again. “Like I said, he’s a fighter, but he responds well enough to hone.”

He laughed. “Still challenging yourself, I see.”

Jackson chuckled, “You could say that. Honestly, there’s something about Mark that makes me want to play, and those kisses,” he hummed. “Delicious.”

“So, how do you intend on making this non-sub a sub?” he asked.

“I’m gonna corner the little mouse.”

“Corner him?” he asked laughing incredulously.

“Let’s just say that if he doesn’t show at my appointed time, he’ll be finding himself jobless.”

He frowned. “Isn’t that a little much? I mean, you can have anybody. Why make a non-sub a sub when you have them lining up at your doorstep? What’s so special about this particular toy?”

“He bites back. I see it in his eyes, Hyung. He’s got that spark. I’d say he’s worth the time and investment, and training should be fun. I’m betting that if I train him well, I could keep him for a few good years.”

“So, you’re actually serious about this one?” he asked, not bothering to conceal the surprise he felt.

“Yeah. I have a feeling I’ll be seeing him for a while.”

Although he was surprised, he nodded and dropped the conversation. “Why else are you here, Jackson? I’m sure you didn’t come here to talk about your latest conquest.”

Jackson’s face pulled into a tight frown. “Dad asked me to step in as interim for the time he’s in Taipei.”

The muscles of his jaw tightened, insulted that his own father would ask the CEO of one their subsidiaries to step in as interim CEO instead of him, even if the CEO in question was his stepbrother. Jealousy curled in the pits of his stomach. It was always obvious that Taek Geun took a liking to Jackson from their first meeting. Unaware of Jackson’s shared taste in the bedroom, the board as well were enamored by his drive and amiable demeanor. In short, Jackson was the perfect choice, if he failed to fulfill. “What?”

“Before you get mad at me, I said no. That’s for you, Hyung. It wouldn’t be right for me to step in. That’s your place, and it would be too much for me to take on along with my company. I also told him to ask you first.”

“When did he ask you?” he asked, anger boiling to a graspable levels.

“That doesn’t matter, Hyung. Just expect a call from him soon.”

He closed his eyes and willed himself to calm down. _Jackson would never do that to me,_ he reassured himself. “Thanks, Gaga,” he said to the younger when he opened his eyes.

“Hey, I’m just thankful that your dad didn’t prohibit me from taking my dad’s place. Your dad could’ve given it to anyone when he married my mom and saved the company. You’re family, man, I wouldn’t do that to you.”

He nodded accepting Jackson’s explanation.

“I do wish you would hear him out, Hyung. He loves you. He may have a weird way of showing it, but he does care about you,” Jackson continued as he stood from his seat. “Oh, and my mom’s gonna be at the gala on Friday. She said she wanted to see you.” With that, Jackson placed his empty glass on the coffee table and left.

He smirked as he thought of his stepmother. In the early years of his father’s marriage to the woman, he had fought with all his might to dislike the woman and her son, but they were persistent, showering him with as much love and attention. Eventually, like with everyone else, a bond between him and Jackson formulated and became stronger than blood when they began to find common interest. It was through this that he began to call her ‘Mama,’ instead of ‘Mommy’ or ‘Mom’ like he did with his late mother. No one dared to say she was his ‘Mom’ except his own father, and to not hurt the woman who had guided him in his later years as an adolescent, he would accept it, but not without a slight grimace.

True to Jackson’s words, his father called him two days later. He had been pouring over the reports from the public relations department, his thoughts far from his father, when Youngjae peeked into his office. “Sir, your father is on line. He wants to speak to you.”

He gritted his teeth. The reports were due back to the department and he still hasn’t come to a decision on what route he would take with the swarm of reports concerning Jackson’s appearance at the university. “Thank you, Youngjae, and can you please have Jackson call me as soon as he can. I know he’s in China right now, but I need to see or talk to him soon. Preferably see him.”

“Yes, sir,” the secretary answered before he closed the door behind him.

He sighed, running a hand through his already mussed hair as he stalked over to his desk. He steeled himself before he lifted the phone from its cradle and placed it by his ears. “Im Jaebum, speaking.”

“Such a formal tone, son,” his dad said in greeting.

“I am at work, Dad,” he reminded his father, subtly hinting he was busy.

“Right. I’ll be quick. I have another meeting to attend anyway.”

“What did you need?” he asked, dread forming confusing knots in the pit of his stomach.

“Son, I need you to step in as interim while I’m in Taipei. It’ll only be for a month.”

“So, Jackson did turn it down,” he thought out loud.

His father’s sputtering came over the line. “I should’ve known Jackson would talk to you about it.” He arched a brow at the underhanded statement. “I always did envy your bond with him.”

Even through the phone, he could imagine his father’s frown. “Dad, I don’t have time to listen to your filial sentiments and regrets today. I’m really busy.”

His father sighed, angrily. “Im Jaebum! You listen here. I asked Jackson because I already figured you were already busy dealing with everything you have going on with you. Right now, the board has their eyes on you. They’re just waiting for you to fail. Jackson has a lot of experience dealing with them, and I don’t want you to fail before you even start. It was the best thing to do,” his father hissed. “Now, you can take the job as interim or you can decline I’m sure one of the CFOs would willingly step in as interim, but I wanted to go to both of you first.”

“So, you went to Jackson first?” he pushed.

“Forget it, Jaebum. I’m sorry for taking up your time,” his father apologized immediately on a sigh, and something pulled at him. It wasn’t the reaction he had been expecting, but it was then he realized he didn’t know what reaction he _had_ been expecting and the dreading feeling amped up.

He sighed. “I’ll do it.”

There was a pause on the line and for a second, he thought he had been too late. “Dad? You still there?”

There was a sniffle on the line before his dad spoke. “Yeah? Yeah. I’m still here. Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll do it.”

Another pause. “Okay. Thank you, son.”

He didn’t bother to reply.

“Oh, your mom will be at the gala on Friday… It’s been a while since she’s seen you.”

“I know. Jackson told me.”

“Come home, son,” his father said quietly. It was barely audible over the line, but he heard every bit of it including the ache in his father’s voice.

“I’ll be at the gala. I’ll show my face.”

“Thank you,” his father said, and he simply hummed before he placed the phone back on its cradle. He looked at the time on his wall.

 _19:49,_ it read.

He sighed heavily as he walked to the standing coat rack and took his jacket. He swung it around his head as slipped his arms through it and walked to the door. Youngjae perked up from his desk when he opened the door and he smiled. “You should’ve been home hours ago,” he scolded.

“Can’t leave the boss to fend for himself,” Youngjae replied, his laugh ringing in the empty space. “Anyways, I had to arrange your schedule a bit after I called Mr. Wang.”

“Oh,” he said with a shake of his head, clearing it from its wandering. “Did he set up a time with you?”

“Yes, he did. He said Friday, after the gala, but you’re meeting with Youngjae, so he said Saturday at 20:45.”

He frowned. “That’s hardly a time to be conducting business, Youngjae.”

“He said drink are on him. If you ask me, you need it,” the younger replied as he stood from his desk. “Hyung, go. Mix a little of business with pleasure. You work too hard, and it’s Jackson. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“A lot,” he drawled sarcastically, knowing Jackson was a ball of energy that can barely be contained. The burst of laughter that Youngjae emitted was filled with such mirth that he couldn’t help but join in.

“Com’on, Hyung. Chill! Go and have fun away from your toy.”

He thought about it for a second. “Fine, okay! Confirm it with him. Get me the address to whatever hellhole he found this time and send it to me… Actually, screw that! I’ll call the idiot my damn self,” he said as he was about to leave the younger’s office space. “Good night, Youngjae. Go home soon and safely.”

“Will do, sir,” Youngjae called after him and he smiled, taking his phone out of his pocket. He texted his driver to get him at the front doors and when he got a response back, he dialed Jackson.

“What’s up, bro?” Jackson’s voice greeted from the other line. His voice an octave higher than usual, but audible over the pounding music in the background, and he snarled. The younger simply laughed. “So, Saturday! I knew you would call me to ask, Hyung. The Lunar Lounge! 10:45pm! Be there! I want you to meet my little mouse.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he replied. “Jackson, what were you doing at the university?”

“The university?” his stepbrother replied, sounding almost confused.

“Yeah, Yonsei. Ring a bell?” he asked just as the elevator dinged open.

Jackson made a sound of acknowledgement. “I went as a guest speaker for Professor Kim’s business class.”

“Who was the student you were seen with?”

There was a pause before a loud click over the phone and the music in the background became muffled. “That was the little mouse. Hyung, I need you to keep that quiet for me. I don’t want to scare him away.”

He sighed. “Jackson, I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Please, Hyung. Just until I can get him under my wing. Just please, keep it quiet for me. Say anything you want, but please just keep it quiet.”

He nodded his head, even knowing Jackson couldn’t see him. There was a pleading in Jackson’s voice that made him oddly suspicious of the little mouse. _Jackson’s always been open about his relationship and yet I’m only hearing about this little mouse only now. Maybe it’s time I meet this little mouse,_ he thought to himself. “I’ll be there,” he decided in an instant. “We’ll see how much you’ve improved your game.”

Jackson chuckled over the line. “I may need your help with this one, Hyung.”

“I doubt it, but I’ll be there any way. I need to meet this little mouse, if I’m gonna be covering your ass. This better not be a waste of my time, Jacks.”

The driver pulled up the front entrance of Im Pacifica just as he was exiting the building, and he walked over to the car. The driver came around the car to open the door for him. Just as he was slipping in, Jackson’s voice came over the line again, sounding worn out, but slightly hopeful. “I hope so too, Hyung.”

He frowned. “You’re really serious about this one, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Jackson replied simply.

“Then I’ll see you on Saturday.”

“Good night, Hyung.”

“Fly back safely, Gaga.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how familiar you all are with how corporate international oil companies work , but CEOs barely ever make the small decisions in the company . If something comes across their desk , it's because the company is losing money and a lot of it . Its the COO's job to make sure that everything in the company is running smoothly so that only good things come across the CEO's desk , hence why they're called Chief Operations Officers . So if you got confused as to why Jaebum is dealing with a PR issue , it's because that's part of his job . 
> 
> Anyways now that I kinda explained that stupid business portion of chapter 2 . I know that I got a lot of tags going that I haven't even touched on yet but I'm getting there . Be patient with me : ) In the meantime , let me know how I'm doing . I love getting feedback : )


	4. The World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The World : 
> 
> In the tarot cards , The World in the up -right position represents the ending of a cycle before int begins again with the fool . It represents cosmic consciousness and perfect union , thus I gave this new beginning the name The World .

_The World_

_Chapter III_

_I’ll be by your side_

〆

Before he could completely calm himself, the driver was opening his door and the flashing and clicking of camera began.

 _The inevitable life of an Im,_ he thought to himself as he stepped out of the car and straightened his clothes.

“Mr. Im, what is your take on the crisis in Japan?” a woman asked him, thrusting a mic in front of him.

“Jaebum-ssi, is it true Im Pacifica will be the donors of the Heart Foundation?” another reporter asked him.

A thousand question were being thrown at him all at once, and his head began to throb slightly. He took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down before he snapped all of them. His driver came forward, placing a palm on his back to escort him into the building, when he heard the question. “Jaebum-ssi, is it true your step-brother dating a student?”

He froze, frowning. He dug his heels into the carpet underneath his shoes and the driver turned to him with concern. Arching a brow, he turned on his heels. “What?” he asked the man.

The man stuttered, backing away. “Is it true Mr. Wang is dating an exchange student from Yonsei University?” he asked more timidly as he held up a photo.

He took the photo from the reporter. The man expensively dressed is obviously Jackson, but he can’t take his eyes away from the brunette in the photo. _Jackson is right. He is a beauty,_ he thought to himself before he chuckled, handing the photo back. “So, you catch one image of them obviously talking and you think they’re dating?” he asks arching his brow higher.

“N-No, sir. There’s more. They were seen kissing.”

He bit back the curse on his lips, and turned back to the entrance. His driver placed his hand between his shoulder blades gently and ushered him quickly inside. “That was bad,” he muttered to himself before he looked up at the driver. “Find that man. Escort him quietly into a room. Don’t let that photo out of sight. I want to speak to him myself later after the gala.”

The driver nodded solemnly. “Understood, sir.”

He nodded and made his way into the ballroom. He scanned the crowd quickly before he spotted the woman he was solely there for. As elegant as ever, his stepmother, Sophia Wang was standing with a group of people, smiling and chatting. Her laugh lines that crinkled at the corners of her brown eyes were deeper than the last time he had seen her, but they only seemed to accentuate her beauty and wisdom. Her figure, still petite and slender for a woman in her forties, was wrapped in red lace and satin making her almost seem fiery, but pixie like all at once. Her shoulder length brown hair framing the sharp, strong features of her face.

Smiling to himself, he took two glasses from a server passing him before he weaved his way through the crowd. He placed a soft kiss on her cheek and she gasped in surprise, turning to him. He bowed to her, his hands extended out to offer her the glass he was holding.

“Jaebum-ah!” she squealed, completely ignoring the drink in his hand in favor of straightening him up and hugging him close. “It’s been too long! How are you?”

He chuckled fondly. “I’m alive and well.”

She pulled away, her expression pressed in a deep frown. “You’re too thin. What is that woman feeding you? You need a new housekeeper.”

He laughed. “No, I don’t. I need a new appetite.”

She giggled. “How is everything with the new job? I’m so proud of you by the way. COO… Wow! I thought I would never live to see the day your father would finally relent and give you the position. Now, I just need you to take his place, so I don’t have to share him with the board,” she said with an adorable roll of her eyes.

“I’m working on it, Mama.”

“Well, work harder,” she said fondly. “Is it everything you’ve been dreaming of?”

He scratched his head, blushing furiously. “Honestly, no. It’s tedious.” There was a bark of laughter behind him that he recognized as Jackson and he turned to greet his stepbrother. “Jacks.”

They hugged briefly, before his stepmother stepped forward to her son to do the same. “Gaga, play nice,” she whispered in her son’s ear only loud enough for them to hear.

Jackson faked a pout. “Ahh… I always play nice with my brother, Mommy.”

“Good. Lord knows how many times Jaebum has pulled you out of a bind.”

“What bind?” his father asked, strolling up from behind him.

A happy smile graced his stepmother’s face, and he and Jackson bowed deeply to his father. The atmosphere instantly crackling with tension. “Dad,” he greeted as he straightened.

“Jaebum,” his father greeted back. “I’m glad you came. There’s someone I want you to meet.” He arched his brows in surprise, but his father continued. “IU Corporation CEO is here. She’s looking for buyers. I want you to handle it.”

His stepmother groaned softly. “Can we talk business after the gala?”

His father shook his head solemnly. “She’s very shy and rarely ever attends functions. This is the perfect opportunity for Jaebum to pull her in and sell to us.”

He nodded his agreement. Lee Ji Eun was older than him by a year. She had become CEO of her father’s business immediately after her twentieth birthday when her father passed away from a sudden heart attack. She was infamous for her rare appearances in public functions, but she was also famous for her beauty and explosive character in the boardroom and quiet meekness in public. It was the perfect business opportunity to catch her at her weakest.

“She’s over by the bar,” his father said, glancing brief in the direction of the open bar. “Jaebum, be careful. I know you can do this.”

He arched a brow at his father before he made his way to the bar. When he came to the bar he leaned against it casually and gestured to the bartender. “Scotch, neat and whatever the lady wants.”

“Expensive taste, expensive drink, expensively dressed. Must be an Im,” Lee Ji Eun said observantly as she looked up at him from her seat. Her eyes twinkling with mischief and mirth.

Although she was dressed plainly compared to the rest of the attendees, the dress she wore complimented her figure to make her seem fierce and seductive. She was heavily colored in makeup and her dress, that hugged her waist with burgundy and midnight black lace, hung loosely to bellow out around her hips and end at her knees. The creaminess of her thighs and legs hidden under thick black polyester stockings only appeared to make her seem untouchable and mysterious, and yet appealing all at once. It was easy to see that when she was dressing she was making herself feel brave when she wasn’t.

He chuckled, looking down to straighten his clothes. “Im Jaebum,” he said in greeting as he extended his hand for her to shake.

Ignoring the extended hand, she turned back to her drink and stirred it. “Are you here to sweeten me or my drink?”

 _Cutting to the chase,_ he thought nodding has he took back his hand and nibbled on his lips. “Both, if you’d let me,” he said as he sat on a stool beside her.

She giggled, turning back to him. “Choose my next drink then. If you could get my drink right, I’ll listen to whatever you have to offer me.”

“Long Island,” he said without hesitation.

She arched a brow at him in surprise. “That was quick.”

“The gin reminds you of Christmas past. The margarita you’re sipping isn’t strong enough for you to handle events like this, but it keeps you in the right state of mind to deal with the vultures. You also seem like a girl who enjoys her sweets, but doesn’t like the hassle to exercising, so I went with sweet. Long Island is the best option that combines all three drinks in one cup. Am I right?”

She smiled, obviously impressed. “What do you have to offer me, Jaebum-ah?”

“Enough money to buy you your freedom from these vultures and live comfortably.”

“What if I don’t want freedom?” she asked turning to him.

“Then what do you want?” he asked carefully watching her face for an opening.

“I don’t want to be in control anymore,” she replied.

He blanched before it clicked, and he inwardly cursed his father to hell. “You want a dom,” he corrected with a nod of his head.

“H-How - …”

“I can recognize a sub when I see one,” he answered, standing up. He pulled his card out of his pocket and placed it on the counter before he lifted the glass the bartender placed on it. He drained it in one go before he continued, “Send your latest medicals to my office. I know where you can find one.” With that, he left her gaping after him.

He stalked back to his father and gripped him by the elbow. “I can’t believe you sent me in there!” he hissed into his father’s ear angrily. “You knew.”

“You know how to handle people like her. I don’t. You were the best one for the job. It was the only way I could get her to agree to even talk to us,” his father hissed back.

  
  
  
  


_My mood changes according to yours_

〆

He let his eyes sweep over the boy sitting across from him, trying hard not to stare and failing miserably. Although Mark was plain and thin, there was something captivating about him. His large brown eyes were not typical for someone of Taiwanese descent. His brown hair was just a tad lighter than his eyes, but was cut in a way that complemented his high cheek bones and slightly puffy cheeks. His face was a tad too long, but was perfect all at once with how it defined his straight nose and strong jaw. What was typical was his slouch. It was very typical of a college student that spent a lot of time sleeping at his desk instead of on his bed. There was a strength in his shoulders that hinted at his silent strength, but he doubted it went any further than that. He would be the first to admit Mark was beautiful in a certain aspect, but he couldn’t for the life of him see why Jackson was determined to break the boy in, and that’s what baffled him about the entire current situation.

There was something in the way the boy was nervously nibbling on his lower lip and brushing at non-existent lint on his pants that made him want to put a spreader on the boy and tease him until he cried out for mercy. His cock twitched in response, and he silently cursed, looking away to Jackson, who was currently whispering something to the boy. He didn’t have to ask to know that Jackson was frustrated with the boy. The air was thick with the tension emanating from the pair sitting across from him, so he picked up his glass and waited, observing the younger, trying to get at whatever game he was playing at.

Giving up, he cleared his throat to get their attention. They both swiveled their heads to look at him, and he nearly choked at the look on their caught expressions. While Mark look confused, Jackson looked like a deer in the headlights, eyes going impossibly large.

“So Mark,” he said as he turned his eyes back to the boy, “Yonsei.”

The boy blushed a pretty pink, and he would be liar if he said he didn’t feel an unexplainable rush, but before he could chastise himself, Mark smiled and his heart fluttered erratically. For a moment, he saw something familiar about the boy, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Yes,” Mark replied simply.

“Business major?”                                                                               

Mark nodded.

“Do you make it a habit to kiss the guest speaker?”

He intended to tease the boy, but Mark’s blush deepened a shade. There was a prominent twitch in his jaw and spit-slicked, sharp teeth were bared at him. Surprised, he leaned back in his seat even further.

_This is no mouse. He’s a cat._

“No! Jackson kissed me,” the boy hissed at him.

 _Cat indeed,_ he decided. “Didn’t look like it in the photos.”

Mark turned to Jackson then. “Photos?”

“A reporter caught us locking lips in the courtyard.”

“And you didn’t care to inform me about this?” the boy asked, his face dipping into a glare directed at Jackson.

He grit his teeth. “We took care of it,” he answered impatiently. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

Mark turned his glare on him. “And that makes everything okay?”

He frowned at the boy, stunned – unsure of how to respond to the question. He wasn’t expecting a ‘thank you,’ but he didn’t expect this reaction either. Somewhere caught between confusion, admiration and annoyance, he gnashed his teeth and gave the boy a curt “Well, yes.”

Mark scoffed, looking away for a moment, shaking his head. “And I thought I was spoiled,” he said, laughing without a hint of humor.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked darkly.

Mark looked between him and Jackson in disbelief. “You all just do what you want, don’t you?” he said as he stood. He turned to Jackson and bowed at the waist. “As much as I am curious about this job you’re offering me, it becomes more and more unappealing every time we meet.”

Jackson took Mark’s hand in his. “You don’t even know what the job is.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea what the job is.”

Jackson frowned, one brow lifting slowly.

“I won’t be your submissive, Mr. Wang. The last thing I need is to become your whore and my face ending up on every Korean gossip page.”

Jackson stood slowly, facing the boy. Even standing at his full height, the two stood shoulder to shoulder, but Mark’s long pale neck add a slight height difference between them. It was almost amusing to watch.

Jackson reached out to Mark and grasped his right hand gently. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little too much and being a tad too judgmental?”

Although Mark took a step back from Jackson, trying to free himself, but his stepbrother held firm. There was no fear in his eyes, just hesitance. He was sure that if Jackson pushed a little harder, Mark would fall into his trap. . For a moment, a million thoughts fleeted across the boy’s face before he shook his head more determinedly.

“Like I said, I am a bit curious about this… lifestyle, but it seems like my say isn’t worth anything. From what I was told dominant-submissive relationship rely on trust. Why would I trust you?” he asked, looking at Jackson with fire in his eyes.

Jackson simply smiled. “Because deep down inside, Mark, you know that you can trust me. I can see you hesitating. Behind all that though,” Jackson said, waving a flattened palm in Mark’s face, “you know that I’m reliable.”

The hesitance grew from a spark to a bright flame, and Mark frowned, looking away from Jackson.

He smiled. _Jackson’s got him._

Finally, Mark spoke up. “One month, and you will draw up a contract. If I don’t like it, I walk away at any time, and you can’t ever contact me.”

Jackson’s smile brightened. “Of course.”

Mark turned to him then and nodded his head at him. “Why is he here?”

He arched a brow. “I’m guessing I’m the witness. I will always be taking care of drawing up the contract. I will be your point of contact until an agreement is reached. I take care of my business and Jackson’s image is my business,” he said standing, buttoning his vest and blazer. “Jackson, may I have a word with you in private?”

His stepbrother nodded, letting go of Mark’s hand. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

Together, he and Jackson walked to the entrance. “What do you know of Mark?” he asked as he turned back to Jackson. He couldn’t for the life of him wonder why Mark seemed eerily familiar.

“To be honest, not much. I know he’s a foreign student here on an exchange program with Yonsei from Los Angeles. He lives in a quaint apartment with his friend and pays it with the money he makes from the Twisted Dragon.”

He nodded his head. “Jackson, I’ll support this, but you stay away from him for the meantime. No contact until he signs the contract.”

“Hyung - …” Jackson began, but he held up his hand and shook his head.

“The last thing we need is him coming out with sexual harassment. There’s no NDA yet. I can’t let you see him until there are lines set between the both of you.”

Jackson sighed, but nodded his head in understanding. “Okay.”

“In the meantime, I’ll draw up a contract and do some homework on him.”

Jackson nodded again. “Hyung, don’t scare him away.”

This time, it was his turn to nod his head. “One other thing, Gaga.”

“What?”

“Why him?” he finally asked.

Jackson looked back to where Mark was sitting silently, watching the jazz band playing on stage, and shrugged. “I have a feeling Mark is just the jewel I’ve looking for.”

He frowned before rolling his eyes. “Sometimes I wonder about your sanity, bro,” he told the younger, shaking his head. “I’ll take Mark back home tonight.”

Jackson looked at him with a dark expression. “Don’t scare him away, Hyung.”

“The boy doesn’t seem the least bit intimidated by me, or even you, for that matter. I doubt he’ll make a good sub.”

Jackson laughed at that. “You would be surprised, Hyung. His response to pain - …” Jackson said trailing off with a smile. He scoffed and held up an okay sign. “Perfect.”

With that, they walked back to Mark and sat. Jackson looked hesitant, but one look at him and his stepbrother complied.

His stepbrother reached across the table and conveyed the most sincere expression he has ever seen and began to speak in a gentle voice. “Jaebum-Hyung will be taking you home tonight. I won’t contact you until you sign the papers, Mark, but I really do hope you sign them. If you have any questions, Jaebum will answer them. If you aren’t comfortable asking him questions, Google helps to a certain degree. I’m sure Yonsei’s library has a wide range of book on BDSM, but not all of it is accurate. I will promise you that what happens between us, will stay between us. A non-disclosure will be signed as well, by both you and I. I always honor a contract.”

Mark frowned deeply, but nodded. “Okay, but what if I have some problems with what’s in it?”

“Jaebum will stand as our middle man. He knows my preference.”

Mark licked his lips and nibbled on it for a minute, and he felt himself react to the movement again. He bit his cheek, trying to suppress the growl bubbling up from deep within his chest.

“Okay,” Mark said, nodding his head finally.

He stood, draining the rest of his drink. “As much as I would love to stick around for longer, Jackson, I have work tomorrow. Mark?” he said, looking at the boy expectantly.

Jackson stood, still holding Mark’s hand in his. He leaned down and kissed the boy softly on the cheek before whispering something in his ear. “Okay?” he asked leaning away from Mark to look him in the eyes.

Mark nodded again before releasing his hand. Jackson walked with them out, kissing Mark again on the cheek before the boy slipped into the car. He waited, looking at Jackson. “Don’t get your hopes up too high. He can still refuse the offer,” he cautioned.

Jackson turned to him. “Hyung, whatever you do, don’t let him slip away.”

“I’ll see what I can do. I’m not promising anything, Gaga.”

Jackson nodded. “Take care of him for me.”

“I will,” he replied before getting in the car himself.

His driver closed the door, and he threaded his hands on his lap, watching through the window as Jackson gave the driver instructions to Mark’s apartment. An awkward quietness settled and from the corner of his eyes, he saw Mark looking out the window, looking thoughtful.

“Is this something you even want?” he asked, breaking the silence.

Mark turned to him. “I don’t know, to be really honest.”

“What’s making you hesitate?” he asked, looking out to the roads.

“I don’t know much about it to form a real opinion.”

“Jackson will teach you well. You’re in good hands. Like he said, if you have any questions before then, you could always ask me. I want both of you safe.”

It was quiet for a moment before Mark spoke again. “I always wondered what the hype was about it.”

“About what? Dominant-submissive relationships?” he asked, looking back at the boy.

He nodded, looking down at his hands in his lap, nibbling on his lip again.

“Don’t do that,” he growled.

Mark looked at him in confusion.

“You’ll ruin your lip biting on it as often as you do. If you’re nervous about something, voice it,” he said, shifting in his seat to avoid the uncomfortable tightness in his pants – silently thankful for the darkness in the car, save for the soft glow streaming in from Mark’s side of the car. “If you never speak up, Mark, you and Jackson will be doomed before the contract even takes place.”

“Oh,” Mark simply said, releasing his lip.

He frowned, noting the boy’s willingness to follow commands. _Maybe it isn’t as doomed as thought after all,_ he thought to himself. He reached into his sports jacket and pulled out his wallet. “Here’s my card. I’ve instructed Jackson not to contact you directly until we come to an agreement and the forms are signed,” he said, giving Mark his card. “I’ll instruct my secretary to put your calls directly through to me, so you don’t have to worry about not being able to get in contact with me.”

Mark nodded, taking the card. Their fingers brushed briefly and his cock twitched.

Mark’s eyes went wide for a brief moment and he gasped softly, but in the quiet, darkness of the car, it was deafening. The boy snatched his hand back, and he frowned.

_He feels it too._

The thought hit him like lightning, and it took everything in him to fold his hand in his lap again, calmly without alarming the younger. He cleared his throat, looking out the window again before he continued, albeit strained. “Youngjae, my secretary, is very efficient, so you don’t have to worry.”

He didn’t have to look at Mark to know the boy nodded his head. “Answer with your words, Mark,” he said. “It’ll help you in the future.”

“Okay. I get it,” the boy said, dismissively.

He turned and looked at the boy sternly. “No, you don’t, or not yet, at least. From here on out, you’ll address me – and Jackson, of course – as ‘Sir.’ You might as well get into the habit of it now, if you’re thinking about pursuing this.”

Mark bowed his head in exasperation. “Yes, _sir._ ”

“With less attitude too,” he hissed. The boy was really getting on his last nerve.

Mark lifted his head then, and there was a fire in his eyes that took him aback. “I’m sorry, if I don’t fit your bill of a submissive or that I’m not as pliant as any other sub you’ve come across, but if I remember correctly, I refused and he forced my hand.”

He frowned at that. “What do you mean ‘force?’”

The boy bit his lip again, and sidled on the seat until his back was practically pressed against the door.

“Nobody is forcing you to do anything, Mark,” he hissed. “I don’t remember you putting up much of a front and refusing Jackson. You could’ve very well refused him, you know? You could’ve walked out of the Luna Lounge, but you didn’t. You’re as much curious as Jackson is wanting. So, why not just give in to your instincts and submit? Why are you fighting what you clearly want?” he asked, leaning close to the boy to look him in the eyes.

Mark gasped, but didn’t answer. Confusion was clear on his face. Inner turmoil clearly warring in him.

He leaned back again, looking forward to the road ahead. “You’re not fighting because you want it. You want to submit, but you don’t know what to expect. Do you always take the easy way out of things?” he asked quietly.

“No!”

“Then, give in. Grasp it. Take the risk, and find out for yourself what all the hype about it is.”

The car slowly came to a stop and he didn’t wait for the driver to come around. He opened the door and stepped out. The apartment was indeed as quaint as Jackson had said it was. “This won’t do,” he said to himself.

Mark stepped out and began to walk towards the entrance.

“Wait,” he called out, jogging a little to catch the boy’s hand. The same electric feeling spiked through him and he inhaled sharply.

Mark turned and glared at him. “What?”

“You know that you won’t be living here when you signed the contract, right?” he asked, gesturing towards the building.

“Like hell I won’t,” Mark said, pulling his hand away as if he had been burned.

His frown deepened. “How far did Jackson go into explaining things?” he asked.

Mark planted his feet on the ground. “He can have me, but he doesn’t get to decide where I lay my head to rest.”

He sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair. _The little brat is really getting on my nerve._ “He’s gonna want to keep you safe and make sure that you’ll be okay,” he tried to explain patiently.

“I think I’m safer here than wherever the hell he stays.”

“Damn it, Mark! Why are you being so stubborn?” he hissed. “It’s just a living arrangement and it’ll sure as hell be better than his shithole.”

The boy backed up at that. “Well, this shithole is where I’ve lived for almost two years now and I’m not about to abandon Peniel to pay the rent alone.”

A possessiveness he’s never felt before filled him and before he could stop himself he had Mark’s bicep in his grasp. “You live with another guy?”

Mark’s eyes filled with fear and he cursed under his breath, releasing the boy’s arm. “That definitely won’t do,” he said, running his hand through his hair again.

Mark bared his sharp teeth. “I’m not moving, and that’s final. You can go and tell _that_ to Jackson,” he hissed before he spun on his heels and briskly walked to the entrance.

“Fuck!” he spat out, kicking at a non-existent pebble on the pavement. “You stubborn, little kitten,” he hissed, watching as Mark yanked the door open.

Mark turned to him and glared at him. “Yeah, well you’re a brat, but who gives a fuck?” the boy screeched at him before he disappeared from sight.

  
  
  


_I want to find myself in those eyes_

〆

Jaebum took a deep breath and forced a smile on his face before he pushed against the main entrance of Crystal Manor and stepped through. A few seconds passed and George, the manor’s butler came strolling through from the library. The forced smile turned into a genuine smile as fondness filled him.

“George,” he greeted the elderly man.

“Master Jaebum,” the man greeted back, a small smile breaking his usual cold exterior.

“Is Mama home yet?” he asked, shrugging his coat off.

“She’s in her quarters, Young Master,” the butler said briefly, and he frowned in confusion, looking over to see that the doors to the library were still wide open. He looked back at the butler.

 _Your dad,_ the butler mouthed at him.

He nodded, clapping the man on the shoulder with an understanding smile. He walked into the library and found his dad looking out the window with a worried frown on his face. It was never a good occasion when Im Taek Geun was frowning, so he opted for the gentle, patient route. “Dad?” he called to his dad in an attempt to break through the thoughtful trance his father was obviously in.

When his father turned to regard him, he continued, “Is everything okay?”

“It’s nothing that should concern you, son,” his father replied, his voice dead of its usual impressionable lilt.

He frowned. He’s seen his father break down after his mom passed. He’s seen his father angry at the company’s board members. He’s seen his father in every state of emotion, but he never lacked that natural determination in his voice, so this new lack of life in his father’s voice was new. It was no wonder George was being cautious when addressing him.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked opting to stand instead of sitting.

“No, not yet at least.”

He nodded. “I’m here, if you need me.”

His father fully turned then and sat. “Go see your mom. She’s been wanting to see you.”

He nodded, turning to leave.

“Jaebum,” his father called when he was just few paces away from the open door.

He turned and looked at his father. There was a weariness on his face and his worry mounted. “Yes, Dad?”

“Don’t humor her.”

His frown deepened, but he nodded his head and left the library. He made his way to the stairs and up to the second floor where at the top he walked straight to the master bedroom and knocked at the door that was also wide open. “Mama?” he called when he got no answer.

There was a soft sniffle and his entire being shook his concern. “Mama?” he called again as he walked in without invitation.

When he didn’t find her in bed, he walked into the sitting room. There he found her curled up on a settee, hugging a pillow close to her face. “Mama, what’s wrong?” he asked as he sat next to her. He gathered her frail frame in his arms. He unconsciously began to stroke her hair and pat her back.

“Oh, it’s nothing, Jaebum-ah. Just not feeling good,” she said, pulling away to dab at her puffy, red eyes.

“Is today not a good day for dinner? I can always come back another day,” he said as he took a tissue from the table and handed it to her.

She shook her head. “No. No, it’s not that. We can still do dinner. I’m glad you came,” she said forcing a smile as she cupped his face between her hands. Her eyes became teary again as she looked into his eyes. She sighed. “Let me just freshen up and I’ll meet you downstairs, okay? Gaga should be home soon.”

He nodded before he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. He got up and walked out the room, making his way to his old bedroom on the first floor. Once there, he pulled his phone out and dial Jackson. Luckily, his stepbrother was fast to answer his phone. “Gaga, what’s going on?”

“Seriously, Hyung?” Jackson asked in a somber tone.

He frowned. Obviously, he missed the point of everyone’s mood. “Maybe it was a bad idea to come today.”

“Wait, you’re home?” Jackson asked, voice turning panicky.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“Stay there. Hyung, you’ve been gone from home for too long. You probably forgot what today is,” Jackson said. “I’m parking in the garage right now.”

“I’m in my room.”

“Alright. Be there in less than three,” the younger replied before he killed the call.

His frown deepened as he pulled his phone away from his ear and looked at his calendar. _Thursday, September 13, 2018 – Go home,_ the calendar read, nothing else hinting at what day it was.

A moment later, the door swung open and Jackson stepped in, closing it behind him.  “Did you seriously forget what today was?”

He sighed heavily, hanging his head. “What am I missing, Gaga? Why is everyone acting like someone died?”

“Because someone did, Hyung.”

He looked at his brother in confusion. “Who?”

Jackson sighed and sat at the edge of his old bed. “Hyung, six years ago today, when you were in the US, Mama got pregnant She miscarried and a few days later, she was told she couldn’t carry anymore. The entire thing was kept quiet.

For some reason, she blames herself for all your struggles. She thinks that if she had been able to give your dad another child, then maybe he wouldn’t pressure you so much. I thought your dad told you.”

The breath he didn’t know he had been holding left him then as he shook his head. He had never known that he and Jackson would’ve been older brothers to a child. He couldn’t imagine the pain his father and stepmother were going through right then, but he felt even worst that he had never been told of this. If he had felt like an outsider a few minutes ago, he now felt even more out of place.

“Six - …”

“Yeah,” Jackson said. “Six years.”

“Gaga, six years and he never told me,” he said bitterly.

“Maybe he forgot,” Jackson told him, trying to reason with him.

“No, Gaga. Six hours – shit, six days is forgetting. But six years?” he asked incredulously as he shook his head. “He never intended on telling me. Why?”

Jackson simply shrugged. “Had I known he wasn’t going to tell you, I would’ve told you myself, Hyung.”

“I know. I guess this family has more secrets than I’m aware of.”

There was a moment of silence as he tried to swallow the news. _Six years,_ was all he could think.

“Have you heard form Mark?” Jackson asked.

He shook his head. “I sent the contract to his address, and the courier just got back to me on receipt right before I left the office. He should be going through it.”

Jackson nodded his head.

There was a knock on the door and they both turned to look at it in confusion. A moment later, the knob was turned and George looked at them both.

“Dinner is ready.”

They both nodded at the butler simultaneously.

“We’ll be in the dining room in a minute, George. Thank you for informing us,” Jackson told the butler.

“Is there something in particular you want to drink, Jaebum-ah?” the butler asked, his aged features softening into a small smile.

“Anything is fine, George,” he told the butler, smiling back boyishly.

The butler nodded, chuckling softly under his breath before he closed the door.

“He misses you,” Jackson said, chuckling himself. “All he ever asks me is how you’re faring.”

He laughed out loud. “Jealous?” he asked with a wink.

Jackson cringed in disgust. “Eww… No. He’s old.”

He rolled his eyes and stood. “Com’on, Gaga. Let’s go. The faster we get dinner done, the faster I can go home.”

“You’re not staying over?”

He shook his head. “I have to get back to Seoul tonight. I’m meeting with Mark tomorrow.”

Jackson nodded as he too stood on his feet. “Let’s go.”

They exited the room and were making their way to the dining room when they heard the clacking of heels on linoleum. They turned to look at the stairs and smiled forcefully.

Jackson stepped forward and took his mother’s hand in his as she descended the last few steps. “Mama,” he said, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.

“Gaga, I didn’t hear you come in,” she said softly, patting his cheek, smiling warmly at her son.

Jaebum looked at the scene with a longing in his heart, thinking about his own mom and how she would do the same to him when he came home from school. He looked at away, fighting the tears that pricked at his eyes.

“I just got here,” he said smiling. “How are you feeling, Mama?”

Her smile turned sad. “I’m okay, Gaga. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

He looked at her then, taking in her appearance, and his heart plummeted. Although she had obviously taken care in reapplying her makeup, he could still see the red lines in the whites of her eyes.

He returned her sad smile and stepped forward to wrap his arms around her shoulder. She buried her face in his chest and a small sob broke through her again. _It’s okay. Don’t blame yourself. I’m fine,_ he wanted to tell her, but the words got stuck in his tightened throat.

Instead, he leaned back to look her in the eyes and smiled fondly at his stepmother. He smoothed a stray strand of hair from her face and brushed away a tear that escaped her eyes. “Please don’t cry, Mama. Smile for me, please. I came here for you.”

She smiled, despite the tears still clouding her vision. “Thank you, Baobei,” she whispered.

He stepped away and took her hand, tucking it into his elbow. “Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

He turned to face the dining room door ready to walk through it and face his father, but when he stepped forward, she tightened her grip. He looked down at her and found her looking at Jackson expectantly. His stepbrother smiled and took her other hand, tucking it into his elbow before he winked at her. Her smile brightened and the three of them walked into the dining room together.

When they walked in, his father was already seated at the head of the table. Albeit his hair was tussled in a very unkempt way, his shirt was tucked back in and he had both his hands resting on the table.

 _Very fitting,_ he thought as he took his father in. _The king sitting in his rightful place to address his subjects._

They each took their seats. While he sat at his father’s right side, his stepmother sat across from him with Jackson on her other side. She reached for his left hand and squeezed it briefly, smiling sadly.at him before she pulled away from him again. George opened the side door and servants filed in carrying dishes of soup.

“Sundubu jjigae, and for you, Master Jackson, seolleongtang,” George announced as their soups were placed before them.

He smiled at the kitchen maid that placed his soup before him and she blushed prettily before she scurried away. He heard a giggle and when he looked up at his stepmother, she hand a dainty hand under her nose in an attempt to stop her giggling. Jackson was staring at him with an amused smirk, and his father remain unamused, stoic and unfeeling – almost oblivious, to their mirth. He cleared his throat as he picked up his spoon and began to stir his soup.

A quiet, tension settled in the room before his father finally spoke. “Jaebum, you never got back to me on the talk with IU Corps’ CEO. Have you come to an agreement yet on their terms of sale?”

He looked up from his soup to his father and frowned. From the corner of his eyes, his stepmother’s hand froze midway as she was about to take a sip from her spoon. Jackson too had frozen in place from where he was stirring his. All eyes were on him and his father, and he couldn’t help but fidget in his seat from the attention.

“We came to an agreement,” he said cautiously.

“Is she willing to sell?” his father asked. His withering, brown eyes trained on him.

He nodded, “Yes.”

“On what terms?” his father pressed.

He turned away from his father then, setting his spoon on the table. “What does it matter? She’s going to sell to us in the end.”

His father simply arched a brow at him, and he sighed in defeat. “Your instincts – or should I say, information – was right, so I offered her what she wanted and she took it.”

“What did she want?”

He scoffed, unamused himself. _I should’ve known._ He licked the corner of his lips before he spoke, smiling cynically. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you, Dad? Well, when you got your information and decided to send me in there, Dad, you forgot to factor a few things in. One, she’s hetero female submissive and I’m a gay male dominant, so we’re playing on the same field, but from different teams. Two, you didn’t take into consideration that she could’ve potentially turned down the offer. Did it not occur to you that she would’ve refused and put my position in the company in danger? The board already put a noose around my neck and you gave them a chance to hang me.”

His father’s jaw tightened. “Of course I considered the danger, and you didn’t hang, did you?” he hissed.

He stood and tossed his napkin on the table. “I should’ve known you were dragging me here to talk business. If that was the case, you could’ve come to my office.” With that, he walked out of the dining room.

There was a screeching noise followed by clacking of heels on the floor, and he knew his stepmother was following him to the door. “Jaebum,” she called after him.

He paused just as he was about to pull the front entrance door open and turned to look at his stepmother. His chest tight with pain.

“Jaebum, don’t leave. Please, forgive him. He’s in pain,” she begged, grasping his hand in hers tightly.

“That doesn’t give him the right to hurt me.”

She sobbed. “Please, give him a chance to make things right.”

He shook his head. “I gave him chance more than once, Mama. When I was leaving for college, when I moved back in when I came back, when Mom died. He didn’t even tell me I was gonna be a big brother. Why? Why didn’t he tell me?” he asked.

She broke down, tears streaming down her face. “That was my fault. You were gone. You were in the middle of your fourth year finals. You were so close. He didn’t want you running back home.”

He shook his head. “Six years, Mama. He had six years to tell me, and he never did. He never intended to tell me.”

“Please don’t leave like this,” she begged.

He pulled her into his arms. “I’ll come back,” he whispered into her hair before he scoffed. “I always come back to this hellhole.”

“It’s not as bad as you think.”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t bad before - …” he began to say absentmindedly.

She nodded her head against his chest. “Before your mom passed. I know. It’s okay. In a way, he’s still grieving too.”

He frowned. “And yet, you still love and defend him – stay with him.”

She nodded. “I love him for it. I know he’ll never leave her behind, just like I can’t leave Ruiji behind.”

He nodded. This much he can understand. “I gotta go,” he said, pulling her close again to drop a kiss on her cheek.

“Come back, even if he isn’t here – or I’ll come see you.”

He smiled. “I’d like that. Thank you for dinner, Mama.”

She chuckled. “You mean for the soup you didn’t even get a chance to eat.”

He smirked.

“At least take some with you.”

As reading her mind, George came around the corner with a bag. “Master Jaebum, take this with you. There’s kimchi in here as well,” the man said with a smile.

He took the bag with a smile. “Thank you, George.”

The butler simply winked at him good-naturedly. “Anything for the young master.”

He shook the man’s hand and left the house, promising himself that the next time he walked through the door, it was to tear it down, along with its older master.

  
  
  


_If you’re feeling afraid, look at me_

〆

He frowned, looking at the contract before him.

The names at the top, screamed at him that something wasn’t right. His contact at the university had yet to come back to him and the latest information he got from the contact that there was no one by the name Mark attending the university. Nothing added up, and frankly, he was concern. Who is Mark? Is Mark even his real name?

“Sir, Mark is here,” Youngjae said through the intercom on his desk, just as he placed his pen in its fountain to run his hands through his hair.

Sighing heavily, he stood and put his jacket on before heading towards the door. When he pulled it open, Mark was standing there, dressed in black suit, looking deliciously formal, but fidgeting in his stance. He couldn’t help the smirk as he took in the boy’s thin frame. The jacket doing nothing to hide the snug fit of the slacks hugging his hips, or the broadness of his chest, only defining it and his cock twitched in interest.

He cleared his throat, closing the distance between. “Mark,” he greeted, extending his hand.

Mark looked at his proffered hand for a second before grasping it. “Mr. Im,” he said, back in greeting.

When he released the boy’s hand, he received a bow as well in respect and he frowned. “I haven’t gotten lunch yet. Would you like to join me?” he asked.

Mark cocked his head to one side, contemplating. “Sure, I haven’t eaten either.”

“Good. It’ll give me a chance to make up for Saturday,” he said smoothly.

Mark eyed him even more guardedly. “You’ll still be a brat, in my opinion,” the boy mumbled.

“If you intend to insult me, at least use your big boy voice,” he mused, smirking at the boy.

Mark gaped at him. “Let’s just go. The faster we get this done, the faster I don’t need to see your face.”

“But I am handsome.”

“Self-love or vanity?” Mark asked, arching a brow at him.

He didn’t bother to reply to the barb, chuckling under his breath. _The cat does indeed have claws,_ he thought as he strolled to the door. “Youngjae, close my book for the rest of the day.”

“Sir, what if your father calls?”

“Forward his call to the villa.”

“Villa?” Mark asked, looking back at him.

“Yes. Let’s go, _Mark,_ ” he said.

Timidly, Mark approached him and he pulled the door open that separated him and Youngjae from the rest of the company. He noticed that Mark didn’t even bat an eye at the mass of staff that bustled around the room busily.

“You’re a business major, right?” he asked.

“Yes,” the boy replied.

“Do you have a job waiting for you back home?”

Mark pursed his lips before replying. “You could say that.”

He arched his brow, waiting for an explanation to the vague answer, but it never came. “Have you ever thought about staying in South Korea after the program ends?” he asked.

“No. I mean, it’s a lovely country, but there’s no place like home.”

He couldn’t relate to the latter statement, but he nodded anyway. “Do you miss it?” he asked as they enter the elevator.

Mark smiled reminiscently. “Everyday.”

“When was the last time you went home?” He expected the answer to be some kind of holiday or a break between quarters or even semester, but was sorely disappointed when he got the answer.

“Summer of 2015,” Mark replied quietly.

He gaped at the boy. “That was three years ago. How old are you? You couldn’t be more than twenty-one.”

“I’m twenty-four. Thank you,” Mark said, smirking at him and finally looking relaxed.

He blushed. “I didn’t - …”

“I know,” Mark simply replied. “I don’t go home much,” he said after a while.

“Why not?” he asked, looking at the boy.

Mark bit lip. “Call it soul-searching,” he said with a shrug, looking up at the digital display on the wall that counted the floors.

“Haven’t found it yet?” he asked gently, looking at Mark’s face for any sign of what he was thinking.

The boy’s sighed heavily before his mouth pulled to one side, pursing tightly. “I guess not.”

“So you don’t exactly know what you’re looking for,” he said in understanding.

“Isn’t that what soul searches are for? To find what you don’t know you’re looking for?” Mark asked, looking at him thoughtfully.

He shrugged. “I guess.”

Mark simply chuckled, looking back at the display. Slowly the numbers changed to a letter and the doors slid open with a ding. He stepped out onto the asphalt and looked back to find Mark standing hesitantly in the elevators. He cocked his head to one side. “Now or never, Mark,” he said softly and the boy stepped out.

“Now, I guess,” he said, walking to stand beside him. His driver pulled up before them, but before he could step out of the car to open their door, Jaebum waved him away, pulling the door open himself. Mark slid in and he followed.

The ride was quiet, but not uncomfortably awkward and he soon found himself studying the boy seated him. At first glance, the boy was plain with his brown eyes and brownish hair, but at a closer look in the daylight, he was so much more. His long, straight nose that pointed upwards just slightly on the tip spoke of how if insulted, they would flare in anger. The deep pink in his lips, and how they were thin on the upper, but perfectly and proportionally full on the bottom to create a beautiful curve or look adorable when pouting. His strong jaw that connected with his long, pale neck was perfect for marking and littering with kisses and bites. The dusty pink on his slightly puffy cheeks that he knew would deepen in shade in the throes of passion or anger. In short, Mark was nowhere near as plain as he initially thought. The man was pretty – beautiful even. He could see why Jackson was intrigued with the man.

What he didn’t understand now was why Jackson had foregone the man’s personal information and plunged into the entire thing based on his beauty alone. _Who are you, Mark?_ he wondered. Something about the boy tugged at him, giving him a sense of familiarity, but he knows he’s never met Mark before Saturday. _Where have I seen you before?_

Mark nibbled on his lip thoughtfully as he looked out the window, watching people on the sidewalks and cars zipping past them, and a fluttering began in the pit of his stomach accompanied by his heart picking up an erratic pace. He looked away and frowned in confusion. _What is this?_ He closed his eyes, leaning back and took a deep breaths in and out to calm himself until the sensation simmered down.

It didn’t take long to get to the villa and when the car came to a full stop, he knocked on the window dividing them from his driver. “I’ll ring you when Mark-ssi needs to go home,” he told the driver curtly. With that, he exited and held the door open for Mark.

“Where are we?” the younger asked, taking in the villa.

“My villa,” he answered simply, walking towards the door.

Mark followed behind him from a short distance. “Do you always take your lunches at home?”

He frowned. “Not often, but when I can, I prefer to cook my own food. Also, this is my ‘home.’”

“Where do you call home then?” the man asked as he slipped his keys into the lock.

His frown deepened. _Fuck! That is a very good question,_ he thought, cursing himself for the slip. “Do you have a preference in food? Anything you’re allergic to?” he asked instead as he pushed the door open.

Mark frowned at him. “No.”

He nodded, throwing his keys into a bowl by the door. Mark hesitated outside the door, looking down at the metal slate that separated the outside from the inside of the villa. “I’m not going to bite you, Mark,” he hissed.

Mark looked up at him, arching a brow at him. “How do I know that?”

“You’re Jackson’s,” he said simply.

The brow rose impossibly higher. “Not yet, at least. How can I trust you?”

He sighed. “I promise you on my mother’s grave, I won’t lay a hand on you,” he said.

Mark shrugged. “Good enough for me,” he finally said, stepping in.

“You’re a very cautious cat,” he sighed exasperatedly.

“I find I can’t trust either of you unless you swear on your mothers,” Mark said.

He felt his eyes brows shoot up at the statement, and Mark continued, “Moms are precious beings. Jackson obviously loves his mother, and swore on all she was that he would treat me right.”

 _That explained what Jackson whispered to Mark in the lounge._ “Do you believe him?”

“His mom looked like a very sweet woman in all her pictures. I guess, no one that sweet looking could raise a completely horrible person,” Mark shrugged.

“You’re right. She is a very sweet person,” he said, thinking about Sophia Wang. He turned and walked into the kitchen where he began to pull out a pot. “Are you okay with ramyun? I’ve been craving a good bowl of ramyun?”

Mark smiled for the first time that day, brightly and his breath caught in his throat. “Sure, I could do with a bowl as well.”

He chuckled, pouring in water into the pot. “Anything you’d like to drink? Soda, water, beer?”

The man sat in a stool by the island and looked at him thoughtfully. “Water, flat if you have it.”

He nodded, opening the fridge to produce a bottle of water and he became dimly aware that it was just him and Mark in the villa. “So - …” he began, “did you… um… did you find anything in the contract you would like to have removed, or would like to change?”

Mark crinkled his nose. “Can we do this after we eat? Please,” he asked timidly.

He chuckled. “Sure. I just thought I’d make conversation. I don’t… I don’t really know what to talk to you about.”

Mark giggled. “The weather,” he suggested, waving a hand at the window with a smirk.

“Okay,” he said, taking the bait. “What’s your favorite weather?”

“Spring, I guess,” Mark said.

“You guess?” he teased.

“I never really thought about it, but I do love seeing flowers shoot throw the last snow and watching them fight to survive as the snow dwindles below them,” the man replied, shrugging his thin shoulders.

He arched his brow. “I don’t know if that was from a sadistic point of view or a masochistic one,” he murmured as he turned to check on the boiling water.

“What was that, Mr. Im? Use your big boy voice. I didn’t hear you,” the man said, amusement obvious in his tone.

“Haha. Very funny,” he replied in a deadpanned voice, remembering the familiar words as he pour the noodles into the pot.

Mark giggled and he stood there, shell-shock at the sound. It was like a mixture of tinkling bells and the sweetest music; so pure and unadulterated, that he found himself smiling and chuckling along as well. Besides Jackson, he had never come across person that made him want to laugh without restraint, and he had to admit it felt amazing. He shook his head, smiling at the pot of boiling noodles like an idiot. “Are you gonna throw my words back at me now?”

Mark simply smirked teasingly. “Where are your bowls?”

He gaped at the man. “What?”

“Your bowls,” Mark repeated, “geuleus.”

 _Bowls!_ he thought, shaking himself out of his shock. “Shit, Mark! You can’t just ask me questions like that out of nowhere!” he scolded without any bite in his voice, instead trying hard to fight the blush working its way to his cheeks. “It’s fine. I got it.”

“My mom said to help out when someone feeds me,” Mark insisted.

He sighed, and cocked his head at the cabinet above the sink. “In there. I doubt you can reach them though.”

Mark arched his brow as he made his way around the island to the cabinet he indicated. The man pulled the cabinet open and regarded the bowls for a second as he watched in amusement. “Too high?” he asked, side stepping until he stood towering over the man from behind. As he reached over the younger, the scent of Calvin Klein One filled his nostrils. He heard a soft gasp and he frowned, looking down at Mark. The man’s eyes were glued to the wall under the cabinet, his shoulders frozen in place. “Breathe, Mark.”

The man’s shoulders sagged before it jerked spastically with a shuddering breath, and he slipped out from under, moving back to the stool he was sitting on. “I guess you were right,” he said, sitting back down. He let out a shuddering, short laugh before he took the bowls out and placed them down on the counter beside the stove.

It didn’t take for the ramyun to cook and he poured them both a bowl. He turned and placed a bowl before Mark before he turned back for his, noticing that the man was lost in thought. “It’s not a big deal, Mark. I won’t touch you. I do have a strict code on who I bed, which includes not wanting what my stepbrother wants already.” It was a complete lie, and he damn well knew it. The soft thud in his pants spoke another tale.

He turned and Mark was looking at him – his expression unreadable.

He came around the island and pulled a stool out, sitting beside the man.

Mark mumbled a ‘thank you’ and he nodded.

The meal was silent and tense. Save for their slurping there was an awkward air and he silently cursed himself for surprising the man. The occasional brush of their elbows heated him to the core. His heart began to race, thudding against his chest with a nervousness he has never felt before.

 _Fuck. What is this?_ he thought, trying to concentrate on his meal. He placed his chopstick down and stood up abruptly, startling Mark. “Sorry, I forgot to get myself a drink.”

Mark chuckled, going back to his meal.

He mentally slapped himself, walking towards the cabinet to get a cup before he walked to the fridge and poured himself a glass of cold, sparkling water. He lifted the cup to his lips, gulping the contents like a thirsty man, hoping that it would calm his thundering heart. He gave up, refilling the glass and carried it to the island.

“Suspension,” Mark said distantly.

“What about it?” he asked as he sat, stunned at the sudden statement, but he was taking it over the clatter in his chest.

“I want it out. It doesn’t seem all that safe,” Mark replied.

“Everything you do with Jackson will be in a safe and controlled environment,” he tried to reassure.

“I don’t want it,” the man said staunchly, shaking his head as he looked down into his bowl.

He nodded, accepting the change. “I thought you wanted to talk about it after.”

Mark shrugged. “I didn’t want to forget,” he said.

“How knowledgeable are you in BDSM?” he asked, looking at the younger. He couldn’t for the life of him imagine Mark naked, blindfolded and suspended.

Mark shrugged again. “Not that much.”

“So how do you know you won’t like it?”

The man twirled his chopsticks in his hand. “I can barely swallow being on my knees waiting for Jackson – I can’t imagine suspended and waiting on him.”

“Impatient?”

Mark blushed. “Kinda.”

“Yes or no, Mark.”

“Yes. Very,” the man replied honestly.

“Have you been in a fully equipped room before?” he asked.

The man shook his head.

“Words, Mark,” he reminded, his heart thudding furiously in his chest.

“No.”

“Would you like to see one?” he asked.

Mark looked up at him then. His eyes filled with wariness.

“Just to see.”

“Will you show me yours?” he asked.

He nodded. An odd nervousness claimed him then. “My playroom is here.”

Mark looked around the villa. “Here?”

He nodded.

The man looked hesitant for a minute, biting on his lip again, before he locked his jaw and looked at him again. “Please,” he said, placing his chopstick down.

“Now?” he asked, looking at their bowls.

“Yes, before I back out of this entire thing.”

He nodded, standing. “Follow me.” Together they walked down the hall to the end of it where he put his hand on the knob. He looked down at Mark. “If you see something you have questions about, ask me. I’ll explain its usage. If you don’t like it, we’ll take it out.”

Mark nodded.

He twisted the knob and opened the door. The dim lights came on automatically. It looked like an ordinary room, but he knew that all the cabinets were filled with only the best products on the market to ensure safety and maximum pleasure.

His heart wrenched nervously as he watched Mark step into the room hesitantly. He opened the nearest cabinets one at a time as he passed. Dildos, crops, butt plugs, paddles, beads of various shapes and sizes went on full display in his wake until he was standing in the middle of the room, looking at Mark, who took it all in quietly.

“What is this?” Mark asked, looking at a wall of straps, stretchers and ropes.

“Which?” he asked patiently.

Mark ran his hands over a particularly small stretcher.

“A urethral stretcher,” he explained, walking towards Mark. He picked the stretcher up and cranked the winged screws on each side until the wands on each side met in the middle. He pointed at the wands. “They’re inserted into the slit and it’s used to open the slit.”

Mark’s eyes went impossibly large at that. He shook his head. “Out.”

“You haven’t - …”

“Out,” the man said again, more determinedly.

He sighed. “Maybe this was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have - …”

Mark shook his head. “No, this is actually better. I have you with me to explain them to me, and I can decide whether I’d like to endure it.”

“Mark, that stretcher was just the first toy and you already refused it.”

Mark shook his head again. “Please,” he said simply. There was a pleading in his eyes that tugged at him. “Jaebum, please just bear with me here. I can trust you, right?”

He frowned. “Of course.”

“Then humor me – trust me.”

He contemplated it. Mark was right in a way, but he was afraid that at this rate, Mark would refuse everything and run in fear. He was afraid that he would lose the man after he had told Jackson he wouldn’t scare the man away. “Promise me you’ll let me explain it thoroughly and think it completely through before you decide on excluding it.”

Mark nodded. “I promise.”

“How can I trust your promise?” he asked.

Mark reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He pulled out a photo and handed it to him.

He reached over and took it from the man’s hand. He looked at the picture and found Mark standing beside a woman with brown hair and a bright smile. A closer look and he saw that the woman was pregnant. He looked up at Mark in confusion.

“My sister,” the man explained, his face scrunched up in pain that was practically palpable. “You and Jackson swear on your mothers. I swear on her. She was the closest thing to a ‘other-half’ that I have ever had. She passed away a few years ago… Drunk driving… I was driving… not drunk, but I didn’t… I didn’t turn in time,” the man said, whimpering a sob at the end of his confession.

“The baby?” he asked, gulping. Something told him there was no child, and his suspicions were confirmed when Mark shook his head, knees folding under him.

He caught Mark in time before his knees hit the floor. His heart clenched for the man, thinking about the loss his stepmother had been suffering alone for the past six years and the pain she had been carrying with her. He nodded. “Okay. I trust you, Mark.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a challenge question with a great reward . The first person to comment and guess who the reading (the world) is for I will send them the first part of Chapter 4 . 
> 
> Also how many words in until someone says 'I love you' ? And who do you think will say it and to whom ?


	5. The Fool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaebum helps Mark through the legal matters and more

_The Fool_

_Chapter IV_

_Just like that_

〆

 

“Want me to go with you?” Peniel asked as they munched on their cereal.

He shook his head. “I don't want you getting involved with them. I'll need some type of normalcy to come home to.”

Peniel nodded. “What is your definition of ‘normal,’ Mark?”

He thought about it for a second before he shrugged. “Usual. Everyday.”

Peniel nodded again. “And what is Jackson? A break in the streak of normalcy?”

The spoon he held in his hand paused midway to his mouth. “I guess you could say that,” he replied, shoving the spoonful of Frosted Flakes into his mouth.

“And Jaebum?” his friend asked, looking up at him from his bowl.

He frowned. “What about him?”

“Do you feel anything for him?”

“Mild interest, but I mean, who wouldn't in my field? The man is known throughout of all of South Korea, except for me apparently until recently. His dad isn't lenient with him just because he's family and he still worked his way up from the bottom.”

“That's it, right? It's just educational interest?”

He nodded. “Am I supposed to feel something more than that?”

Peniel shook his head this time. “No. I just… I'm worried about you, Markie.”

Touched, he reached over and held his friend’s hand, squeezing it in what he hoped was was in a reassuring way. “Thanks, P but for once I don't want to be scared. I want to try something new and maybe, Jackson will give that to me.”

“I just don't want you getting stick between two feuding brothers - even if they're step-brothers.”

“I'll be careful. I promise.”

Peniel nodded his head again. “Just be careful, okay?”

He nodded. “I can walk out whenever I want, and if I feel like I'm in danger of that, I'll walk out. Just like that,” he said, snapping his in fingers for emphasis. “I promise.”

Peniel smiled, standing up. “I trust you, Mark - to do the right thing. I'm not gonna tell what to do, but I will tell you to guard your heart. The last thing you need is to leave here with a broken heart and wounded soul.”

He laughed. “Real poetic, bro,” he said laughing as he stood as well. He followed his friend into the kitchen, and they washed the dishes before they picked up their bags. They said a brief bye at the steps of their apartment and went their separate ways - Mark to Im Pacifica headquarters and Peniel to school.

  
  
  


_Will you believe in me because there's no need to be afraid_

〆

Taking a deep breath, Mark pushed against the carousel doors and stepped into the lobby of Im Pacifica headquarters and looked around. Men in business suits of various shades and styles were briskly walking towards the elevators, ready as they could be for their long day. He gaped at them, wondering what it would be like to be doing the same in the not-so-long future.

He looked down at his white t-shirt, stuffed into the waistband of his ripped jeans. He had left the lumber jacket-styled, button-up blue, white and black shirt open to complement his thin waist and give him the confidence he needed, but as he stood in the mass of professionally dressed businessmen and women he began to feel self-conscious instead.

He sighed, bowing his head a little as his eyes fell on the reception desk. A young pretty Korean girl with wispy, bust-length auburn locks was busily forwarding calls already, looking frustrated and slightly annoyed. He closed the distance and stood patiently until she placed a call in hold and looked at him expectantly.

“Can I help you, sir?” she asked a little too sweetly.

He fumbled for a second - the nervousness swirling around in the pit of his stomach became a whirlwind. He frowned slightly, unsure of how to phrase himself. “Uh, yeah, I guess. I'm here for a meeting with Mr. Im.”

“Which one?” she asked, raising a brow at him.

It took everything in him not to face-palm himself. “Sorry. Im Jaebum. My name is Mark Tuan.”

The girl's eyes became round as she stood on her feet. “I'm so sorry, Mr. Tuan. Please forgive my rudeness. My name is Kim Jisoo. Please, follow me,” she said leading the way towards the elevators. She swiped her employee badge at the security checkpoint before the elevators before pressing the button on the closest elevators. “This is the elevators you'll be using whenever you come here. You're gonna wanna take this lift to the 57th floor. Upon exiting, the office at the end of the hall is Mr. Im's office.”

He nodded his head briefly. “Thank you.”

She looked like she was about to burst into tears as she reached forward for his hand then stopped. “I really am sorry for being rude.”

He smiled tenderly hoping to convey a nonchalant demeanor. “Don't worry about it. I bet it gets frustrating sitting up there and getting bombed with so many calls at one time,” he told her as the elevator dinged open.

She scoffed a laugh. “It does sometimes if I'm being really honest. There are so many people working here and just one of me.”

He reached out to her instead and squeezed her shoulder softly. “Don't worry about it, okay? I won't get you fired,” he said with a wink hoping it would help her relax.

He was right in hoping. She blushed prettily. “You're too kind, Mr. Tuan.”

He stepped into the elevator and searched for the buttons. He pressed the button labelled 57 before he looked at the girl again and waved at her. “Thank you for your help, Jisoo-ssi.”

Her blush deepened and the elevators closed.

As the lift carried him upwards and closer to Jaebum's office, his anxiety rose. _This is a mistake. I shouldn't have come here. This is a bad idea,_ he thought to himself, fiddling with the folder in his hands. He opened the folder and the contract’s black bold letter stared back at his menacingly.

  
  
  
  


**Submissive Trial Agreement and Consent**

 

_Recitals:_

_This contract is a binding document between_ **Mark Yien Tuan** (the Submissive) and **Jackson Wang** (the Dominant) on equal terms and understanding. This contract can be terminated at any time if the Submissive has decided to end the partnership or both parties have decided that they are not a compatible pair for this partnership.

 

I, **Mark Yien Tuan** , hereby agree to the terms of this contract to undergo a trial stage with the chosen Dominant (written above) until such time as a decision has been made as to whether to forgo complete contract or terminate partnership as Dominant.

I, **Jackson Wang** , hereby agree to the terms of this contract to undergo a trial stage with the chosen Submissive (written above) until such time as a decision has been made as to whether to forgo complete contract or terminate partnership as Submissive.

 

This contract will become effective on the date agreed upon by both parties and will end on the date also agreed upon by both parties.

(End date may be changed at any time if agreed upon by both parties therefore extending the contract as needed/wanted.)

 

Contract commencement date: 08072018

Contract termination date: 08082018

  


(All legalities will be handled by Im Jaebum as needed in the duration of the contract’s effective time frame.)

 

Submissive:

Dominant:

Witness:

  
  
  
  


It was well written if he would say so himself. Jaebum had taken special care in wording the document so there were no misunderstandings, removing everything he felt was too extreme for him while still keeping to what Jackson preferred. It was a clear agreement form, but he couldn't but wonder if it was a sound agreement that he should be signing his name too.

The elevator dinged open once again and he was greeted with blindingly white, pristine walls that reminded him of an asylum for the mentally ill.

 _God, I must be going crazy myself. What am I even doing here?_ he silently mused, smirking to himself as he exited the lift. _You can do this, Mark! Explore a little. College is supposed to be that time when you experience… Right?_

He shook the thoughts as he stood in front of Jaebum's office door. _Now or never,_ he told himself, reaching for the handle.

His hand had just came to rest on the cold metal, when the door was being pulled open from the inside, and he found himself stumbling forward before an arm caught him around the waist.

There was a rumble of laughter above him and he blushed furiously. Just as suddenly as he had stumbled forward, he was being righted, and he came face-to-face with a very amused Im Jaebum.

His breath caught in his throat as he took the man in. His soft facial features looked a lot more relaxed than the last time they had met. His perfectly aligned, white teeth glistened against the pink of his lips, making them look delectable - even kissable. His eyes were twinkling between the narrow slits of his lids. The twin black moles above his left eye, only stood out more against his slightly tanned skin from this close, and he was stunned into silence.

“Good morning,” Jaebum said as he gestured to a chair. “Here. Have a seat first. I gotta grab some papers from a colleague real quick, and I will be right back. Make yourself at home. You're really prompt by the way. That's a good thing.”

He mentally shook his head before nodding quickly and made his way to the armchair that Jaebum indicated. He sat in the chair just as Jaebum disappeared through the doorway and he broke his facade again. He sighed in relief sagging against the soft fibers of the couch, as he closed his eyes.

“He freaked the shit outta me!” he whispered hoarsely to himself.

When he opened his eyes again, he took the time to look around the elders office. Like the white walls in the hall, the room was also decorated in a modern-style with white, chrome and glass. It was clean and he was sure that the file cabinets has zero dust collection on them, even from where he sat on the opposite end. Every glass surface was clear and see-through and sparkling almost blindingly. Instead of paintings to brighten the room a bit more, one wall had shapes of each country in chrome. Each major city had a clock the size of a baseball except one city.

 _Home,_ he sighed to himself, looking down slightly crumpled contract in his hand. “Shit!”

In his shock and nervousness, he had not realized that he had clutched the papers a little too tightly. He cursed to himself as he tried to straightened the already creased in lines.

“Something wrong?” Jaebum asked as he entered the room again.

“Uh… no!” he replied shaking his head. “I just… I accidentally crumpled the paper.”

“Sorry about that. I didn't realize you were already in the building. Jisoo probably forgot to call up here. She’s new, so I'll have to talk to her.”

Panicking, he he waved both hands before him. “No, please, don’t. I think it was my fault,” he said with a wince.

Jaebum arched a brow at him in amusement as he sat across from him in an identical armchair.

“I kinda left her at the lift flustered.”

“Jisoo?” Jaebum asked a little shocked.

“Yeah.”

“You left our receptionist flustered?”

“Yes?”

“We're talking about Kim Jisoo, right?”

“Do you have another receptionist?” he challenged.

Jaebum frowned a little. “She doesn't get easily flustered. What did you do? Did you trip in the lift too?”

He shot the elder a unamused expression. “No. I winked at her.”

Instead of laughing at him, the amusement on Jaebum's face fell away and it took on a more dark deposition. “Mark, from here on out, you can't be doing that. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

He frowned in confusion. “No. Care to explain?”

“Jackson gets a little… possessive with his submissives. In fact, every Dominant does.”

He swallowed, bowing his head in shame. “Sorry.”

Jaebum sighed. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” he asked cautiously.

He lifted his head to look the elder in the eyes. “Are you sure you're representing your brother?”

Jaebum scoffed a laugh. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“You keep asking me if I'm sure,” he replied, eyeing the elder suspiciously.

Jaebum sighed more deeply as he leaned forward in his chair, never looking away from him. “Look, Mark. I'm not trying to dissuade you from signing that document in your hands. Even now as you hold it, you can rip it to pieces, walk out of here, and pretend this never happened. What I want is for you to be absolutely sure this is what you want. If you can’t trust Jackson, all the meetings we've had so far will all be for naught. A dom-sub relationship relies heavily on trust.”

He thought about what the elder for a second before he spoke again. “Do you trust him?”

“With my life,” Jaebum replied easily. “But that's not important. What's important is, do you trust him?”

It was in that easy answer that he placed everything on the line. “If you trust him, then I’ll trust him,” he said without falter. He leaned forward and grabbed a pen from a holder in the center of the glass coffee table between them. He placed the document on the glass before swiftly scribbled his signature on the line under Submissive. He turned the document to face Jaebum before looking up at the elder.

Jaebum was looking at him in a very interesting way that left him slightly unnerved again.

“What?” he asked.

The elder shook his head. “Just like that?”

He nodded. “I trust you,” he said, handing the pen to the elder.

Jaebum arched a brow, but didn't say anything, choosing to take the pen from him instead. Their fingers brushed briefly and he retreated quickly. His skin blazing hotly from the contact. If Jaebum felt anything at all, he didn't show it; His eyes and the pen in his hand already poised on the line below the word: witness. With a flourish and a jab of the bullpen against the paper, Jaebum picked the paper up and strolled over to one corner of his office where a copy machine sat. He fed the contract to the machine, which in turn produced an identical sheet before he came back to his seat.

He couldn't help, but observe the older man. They weren't at all that significantly far in age - seven years, if what he read in the few articles of Jaebum he found were accurate - but it was obvious between the two of them who had a larger load of responsibilities. There was a tension in his shoulders that was obvious in how his suit jacket was threatening to rip at the seams. The handful of times they had met, he also noticed how Jaebum always kept to his tight schedule, never leaving late to catch his next meeting, and sometimes even leaving him to his own vices.

Oddly though, unlike being with Jackson, he felt more… free to speak his mind when he was with Jaebum. Where he felt awkward and cornered with Jackson, he felt confident and free with Jaebum. He felt as if his thoughts actually mattered, which he found extremely odd, seeing as Jaebum was also a Dominant.

Shaking the thoughts away, he watched Jaebum turn back to his desk to pull out a sheet of paper from a drawer before he returned. He took his copy that Jaebum was offering him and placed it on the table as the other took his seat again.

“Luckily for you, Jackson is somewhat predictable and has a tentative schedule,” Jaebum said, examining the paper he had withdrawn from his desk before he set the paper on the coffee table. With a flick of his thumb, the paper spun around on the surface to face him.

He leaned forward and looked at the sheet. It was a calendar labeled May at the top. Each box had times in different shades. Beneath the calendar was a brief description of each color. Board, Event, Overseas, Meetings - etc.

From what he gathered on the calendar, Jackson was currently “overseas.” He looked up at Jaebum from between his lashes, arching a brow in question. “What am I looking at? Moreover, _what_ am I looking for?” he asked uncertainly.

Jaebum shook his head as if shaking off what he was thinking and it took everything in him not to laugh at the elder.

“Sorry. I didn't explain much with that, did I?” he said almost absentmindedly. He leaned forward as well, resting his elbows on his knees. “Decide on a date of commencement before the next time we meet. You're probably gonna wanna schedule it somewhere between this Friday and next,” the elder said, pointing at the two Fridays on the calendar. “That's when Jackson will be back in Korea,” he explained. “Your homework in the meantime, will be to fill in the hours between each slotted time that is more than three hours, and label them as ‘Personal.’ You can choose a color of your choice. That will be the times you see Jackson. Pretty fair, right?”

He nodded before a thought hit him. A unexplainable pang of jealousy hitting him when he realized Jackson left the country constantly. “And the times he's overseas?” he asked a little too quietly.

Jaebum chuckled. “Don't worry, Mark. He'll only be with you.”

He winced, feeling a little ridiculous for having been caught being a little selfish. “That's- that's not why… That's not why I asked,” he tried to deny hotly, but the squeak in his voice betrayed him.

Jaebum chuckled a little longer this time. “You can go with him,” the elder said as soon as he could catch his breath, before explained further, “if your personal schedule permits it, as well as Jackson - at his expense, of course.”

He smiled at the prospect of travelling again.

“Do you like travelling, Mark?” Jaebum asked him suddenly, his voice soft and curious.

He looked up at Jaebum again, smiling a little reminiscently. “I guess you could say that. I think I've done enough travelling though.”

“Miss home?”

He nodded again. “A lot.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

“Three. Two older sisters and younger brother,” he replied, thinking about Tammy, Grace and Joey. “All annoyingly demanding.”

Jaebum scoffed a laugh. “I guess we share something in common then.”

He snapped out of his revelry in confusion to find Jaebum's eyes flickering at him with amusement. “What?”

“An annoyingly demanding little brother.”

He laughed. “My brother isn't half as bad as yours.”

The elder joined him in laughter before sighing deeply. “As much as I enjoy sitting here, chatting with you, Mark, I also have a meeting to get to,” he said looking down at his watch that was settled neatly on his wrist. “I assume you have a class to get too as well. How about you meet me for a late lunch and we pick this up then?”

He gaped at Jaebum for a second before standing up awkwardly. “Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take up too much of your time.”

Jaebum chuckled softly. “It's fine. Honestly, I didn't realize the time either. Youngjae should be waiting for you in his office down the hall - first door on left, right before the elevators. He'll have three cards that you must have on you at all times. The first is a black card for you to use at your own discretion. Buy anything you need. The second one is a key card to Jackson's personal apartments here in Seoul. The third is Jackson's business card. It'll give you access to any place you go, including Jackson's office and mine, if you need to.”

He nodded his head. “Okay,” he said beginning to walk towards the door. There was a poignant silence in the room and an odd feeling claimed him.

Feeling as if he forgot something, he turned back to Jaebum, who was looking at him expectantly.

“What?”

“Lunch?”

“No.”

Jaebum's eyebrows shot up his forehead in shocked silence, almost as if he didn't expect the flat out refusal. “Sir?” he asked instead.

“No, Sir,” he corrected himself, steeling himself against the flutter of excitement in his chest.

Jaebum frowned deeply, but he nodded his head slowly, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Okay. You can leave.”

He began to walk to the door again when Jaebum spoke again. “Why?”

He stopped at looked at Jaebum intently. “Jealousy isn't something I think I can handle from Mr. Wang. I’d prefer not to make a bad impression before our first session together and end up severely punished for meeting another Dominant, brother or not,” he explained.

Jaebum smirked slightly. “Smart move, Mark. You're already learning and you haven't even started training. There's hope for you yet.”

Call him a masochist, but pride overpowered the excitement and his chest swelled with it at the praise. “I'm a quick learner,” he said, shrugging. “I’ll see you around, Sir.”

Jaebum nodded his head once and he walked out, feeling better about the entire thing than he did walking in.

Down the hall, he found the door Jaebum directed him to, to find it open. Unlike Jaebum's blandly decorated office, this one was cheery, almost homey. It gave him an odd sense of coziness even in its dominantly stark whiteness, and he couldn't help the smile that made its way to his lips. At the desk, a blonde head was leaning over a document spread out on the glass top.

Lifting a hand, he knocked softly, somewhat hesitant, on the door and the blonde, he assumed was Youngjae, looked up at him and gasped. He froze where he stood, awkwardly staring back at the man. A wave of self-consciousness swept through him before the blonde visibly shook himself. He half-expected the blonde to scowl at him, and he was sure he wouldn't blame the man, given his new status. Instead, Markhe was shocked by what happened next.

“Sorry, they said you were beautiful. Beautiful doesn't even begin to describe you, Hyung. I can call you ‘hyung,’ right? Honestly, ‘beautiful’ doesn't even begin to describe you,” the blonde babbled as he stood from his seat.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes slightly. “Calm down. I'm not that beautiful, and yes, you can call me ‘hyung.’ I'm Mark Tuan, but you already knew that,” he said, extending his hand for a shake.

The blonde let out a belt of laughter, his face brightening up even further as he reached out as well. “I'm Youngjae - Choi Youngjae - but you can call me Youngjae. You know, since we'll be seeing each other a lot.”

He began to relax a little until he remembered why he was meeting the younger to begin with. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Mr. Im said you had a few things for me.”

“Right! Give me a sec. Have a seat,” Youngjae said, indicating an empty chair across from him as he sat in his chair again.

Hesitantly, he took a seat in the chair and watched as Youngjae pulled a drawer of his desk open, extracting an envelope from it.

“Am I really your hyung?” he blurted.

Youngjae chuckled softly, placing the envelope on the desk. “I mean, I guess, if my minimal research on you was correct.”

 _Research?_ he was about to ask when Youngjae became clearly frustrated with the large envelope, opting to tear the fold across the top instead of trying to open it cleanly.

“Jackson-Hyung sent this a couple of days ago for you,” the younger began to explain, as he spilled the contents on the desktop. Along with the three cards Jaebum had told him about, a metal ring with paper attached to it came tumbling out the envelope.

His eyes went wide with shock as he recognized the cock ring even as a blush crept up his throat. He squeaked, flinching in his seat as his hands went flying up to his face to cover his eyes. “What the fu-,” he began to blurt out just as thunderous laugh filled his ears.

From between the crevices of his fingers, he peeked at Youngjae to find the man bent backwards in his chair, cackling heartily with his head thrown back. Despite the embarrassment filling his face, he couldn’t help but push past it. He was ready for the day to end.

He let his hands fall into his lap and waited for the younger to compose himself before he gave him a deadpan expression.

“It isn't that funny.”

A small smile that crept on the younger’s face was immediately crushed. “I didn't mean to laugh. It's just… it's just that it's Jackson-Hyung. You might as well get used to it.”

He didn't know how to take the statement, so he reached over for the note attached to the ring. Disgust filled him as he daintily untied the note. In a sloppy scribble, it simply stated ‘a little gift from yours truly,’ and he groaned, rolling his eyes.

_Of course. Leave it to Jackson to make a big splash just to be reminded of what he was getting himself into._

He let the note slip from his finger to drift back onto the desk. “You can keep that.”

Youngjae's eyes widened in shock. “I can't,” he replied, shaking his head.

“Then toss it.”

There was a flash of fear that crossed Youngjae’s face before the younger answered. “Oh. Oh, no. If anyone is tossing that, it’ll be you. I was instructed to give you the envelope, not to be your bitch. In all honesty, I should’ve just given it to you, but I was afraid you wouldn’t know which was for which.”

He stared at the younger blankly, unsure of how to answer. Torn between walking out and sitting there to listen to Youngjae, he instead chose to stay quiet and let the younger go over the items on the table.

“This will be your black card. There's no limit to it of course, like all black cards. If you or Jackson need anything, in the duration of the contract, this is what you will use to purchase it. All expenses made with it are reported to Jackson,” Youngjae said, indicating the credit card with his name written in block letters on the front. “I need you to sign the back of it. You need to have this on you at all times. This,” he said pointing to red and black card. “This is the key card to Jackson's private elevators. The address is written on the back, I believe.”

He picked up an intricately designed business card. It was also black and red, but not your particular everyday hard-paper business card. This card was plastic and hard, almost as thick as the black card. It was obvious that it held significant importance and value. “This card should be on you at all times too. Are you listening to me? Mark-Hyung?”

He nodded his head.

“This card will get you anywhere, including Jackson's office. I’ll send you an email with a list of all the contacts you will need. You don't have to acquaint yourself everyone on the list. The most important ones are Jaebum-Hyung, myself, Jackson and his secretary. If you can't get a hold of Jooheon-Hyung, your best shot is me. Work your way up the ladder. You know what I mean by that, right? Your last resort is Jaebum-Hyung.”

“So I can't call Mr. Im directly, is what you're saying?” he asked, needing clarification.

“Yes, exactly.”

Dread began to fill him. “But I thought -...”

 _Call me if you need anything, Mark,_ Jaebum's reassuring voice echoed in his head.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. _Of course Jaebum would try to be sincere. Like the perfect submissive he had fallen into the trap of strong Dominant’s soothing voice._

“Forget it,” he said, standing up. He swiped the items off the desk and stalked out of the room, leaving a very confused Youngjae in his wake. It wasn't until he was on the bus, fuming in anger when he looked down at the items still clutched in his hands.

“You're a dumbass, Mark Yien Tuan,” he muttered to himself as he stuffed the items in his bag.

  
  


Thinking of tomorrow

〆

The week crept by too quickly for his liking and before he knew it, it was Wednesday and he was staring out the window, watching passers walk by his apartment. He couldn't help but focus on the businessmen and women that passed in their suits, briefcases hanging at their sides. They all seemed so put-together and focused - like they knew what their purpose in life was.

Sighing, he looked away from the pane. He looked over at his phone, sitting on the kitchen counter. The screen lit up as it displayed an incoming call. Frowning, he walked over to it, wondering why it wasn't ringing until he read the name on the screen.

 _Tammy,_ it read, and panic surged within him.

_Shit! I forgot to call Tammy._

He scooped the device off the counter, pressing on the green button before he placed the device against his ear. “Tam, shit! I'm so sorry. I forgot I was supposed to call home,” he began to explain immediately.

“That's not why I'm calling, Mark. Would you like to explain yourself or should I just have Dad transfer you back here?” Tammy asked sternly.

His panic began to rise as his mind sprinted towards Jaebum. _Fuck! Did they find out?_

“Look, I can explain!” he said, fear clutching his heart.

“You better have a damned good explanation as to why the chief executive officer of Wang Enterprise offered you a job and you didn't say anything! Markie, that's big! He's actually acknowledging you! Congratulations! Does this mean you'll really be focusing on that business major? You can't take the job by the way. Daddy would be pissed. You know how much he wants you to take over in his place,” she asked, practically squealing in excitement.

He sighed in relief silently. _They didn't find out._ Rolling his eyes, he chuckled softly albeit a little nervously. “Of course, I'm not taking the job, Tams. I want to come home.”

“Oh, Markie,” she sighed, her voice going soft. “We really miss you too, here at home. We haven't seen you in six years. I really do wish you could find what you're looking for. It sucks having so much pressure placed on you, but you know Dad will give you as much time as you need. He understands because he didn't want to take over either before grandpa passed away.”

“I know. I just… I wish I knew what I really wanna do in life, you know? Like, I don't see myself spearheading an entire corporation. I understand business and all. I just… it's not my passion.”

“Then what is, Mark?” Tammy asked softly.

He sighed a little defeatedly. It's a conversation they've had countless times since he graduated high school. In fact, if he could count how many cities he found himself in, it was the same number of times they've had this conversation already. “I don't know.”

“Well, I hope you find it before you have to come home for graduation.”

He smiled a but at that. “Thanks, Tam.”

“Any time, buddy. Anyways, I gotta go. Today is the grand opening for the ski resort and I gotta do my job as the head of PR. Wish me luck.”

“Oh, hey! So what did you tell Jackson Wang’s people?”

“Oh, not much. They wanted to know if you were affiliated with us, so I fed them the half truth we fed the public.”

He sigh another relieved sigh. “Thanks, Tammy, and good luck. Don't fall on your face!”

There was a gasp and a screech of a single profanity before he killed the line with a satisfied smile. Just as he was about to check his notifications, his phone rang again. He smiled wider.

“What did you forget to tell me now?” he asked without preamble.

“I don't know, Mark but let's talk about what you haven't told me,” Jackson’s deep voice came over the line.

He gasped in surprise, pulling the phone away from his ear. He gaped at his phone for a second, silently chastising himself for assuming it was Tammy before he placed the device back by his ear. He struggled to swallow around the lump in lodged in his throat - his mouth having gone dry.

“What I didn't tell you, Sir?” he asked, cursing the nervousness apparent in his voice.

“A commencement date,” the elder reminded, a hint if annoyance in his voice. “I'm not a patient man, Mark.”

With the contract already signed, he was at the mercy of Jackson’s presence again. “Don't you have better things to do than patronize me?” he asked, trying to move the conversation away.

But Jackson was keen, “A commencement date, Mark,” he pressed.

“Fine,” he tried to sound nonchalant instead. “You're free this weekend - Saturday evening, if I'm not mistaken - except for a meeting in the afternoon. I'll meet you then.”

“Have you schedule the time with Jessi?” he asked a little too softly for his liking.

Mark simple shook his head as if Jackson could see him before he answered. “I haven't. I'm meeting Jaebum tomorrow again to give him my schedule. Your secretary can decide on the dates.”

“Or you could just meet me-...” Jackson suggested gentle. “I won't touch you, Mark. Not unless you want me to.”

He frowned. It was then he really heard the weariness in the man's voice. It was almost as if the man had the weight of the world on his shoulders. It was very different from the Jackson he had become used to. “Is… is everything okay? With you, I mean. You sound… tired.”

There was heavy sigh before Jackson spoke again. “Yeah, I'm just… I'm just tired. I ready to come home. I mean, Hong Kong was once my home, but without my family here - it's not the same. You know what I mean?”

He thought about Taiwan. The little province he had been born in and hummed an agreement. “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. It's not a place that makes a home - it's the people.”

Jackson chuckled softly. “Listen, Mark. I know you’re new to all this and I didn't really make myself clear, but even as a sub, you do have a choice. Everyone has their limits. You're allowed to refuse anything I offer you. All you have to do is tell me your safe word.”

He nodded at that, mentally racking his brain for the perfect word. He smiled, scoffing a short laugh. “Home.”

“Home?” Jackson asked laughing. “Why home?”

“Because if I use it, there's only one place in this world that would make me feel safe, and that's home. Anyways, when all this is done, I'll be going home to where I belong.”

“What makes you so sure you'll be going home?” the man asked laughing a little more. “I mean, you might like what I offer you and decide to stay.”

“We both know this can't be permanent, Sir,” he replied softly.

He could almost imagine the man nodding. “You could always move your family's business across the Pacific Ocean. I'm sure Jaebum would like a good competitor.”

He gasped.

“What? Did you think I was stupid? I know who you are, Mark Tuan. Don't worry. I won't expose you to anyone, including my brother. He'll have my head, if he finds out you're Raymond Tuan’s son.”

“How did you know?”

“I live in the business word, Mark. All I needed to do was find out your last name and make some phone calls. It took for me to call Tuan Global’s PR Department, inquiring about you to put two and two together. Imagine my surprise when they told me that the heir to the empire was on educational leave for an extended period.”

“So you understand why I can't be seen in public with you?” he asked, holding his breath.

“I am bound by contract to protect you as your dominant, Mark and if that means protecting your reputation, then I'm willing to meet you halfway,” the man replied.

He released his breath in relief. “Thank you.”

Jackson hummed through the phone. “Now, about that date -…”

“Like I said, we'll merge our schedules and work from there.”

“Will that leave you enough time to focus on your studies?” Jackson asked. “I don't want you slacking in school.”

There was a moment of silence - during which he processed this new side if Jackson Wang - before the man broke it.

“Will you be quitting your job? You won't be needing it anymore.”

He shook his head. “No. My family know that I use the money from my job to pay my half of the rent.”

“About that -...”

“I'm not moving out of here,” he interjected with finality. “This part was written in the contract.”

“Let me finish, Mark,” Jackson said although softly, the warning was evident in it. Somehow, he knew it was louder than if the elder had shouted instead. “I'll pay your portion of the rent - that's not a problem. Is there any way I can change your mind about that part?”

For a moment, he entertained the thought before he answered. “I would like my own space - away from all that. Please, that's all I ask. You can have my body, but please, let me protect my heart.”

“I won't stop trying to convince you, Markie.”

“I know,” he sighed.

“What is it that you really fear about ‘all this,’ Mark?”

“I- I don't know,” he lied. He knew damn well why he was scared. It was new. It was exciting. He was scared he would come to love it, and not know how to crawl out of it.

“I have to go, but will you tell me when you do know the answer to that question?”

He sighed again, this time more heavily, but nodded anyways. “When I’m ready.,” he simply replied.

“I'll see you soon, Mark,” Jackson said softly.

“Bye, Sir,” he said with a smile. He listened for the beep, indicating the line was disconnected before he pulled the phone away from his ear.

It was odd, seeing this new side of Jackson Wang and wished he has seen this side first before he had came to his initial conclusion about the man. There was something about this new side that made him feel better about their newfound relationship. It made him feel somewhat safer and assured, and he began to trust Im Jaebum just a little more.

Maybe Jaebum wasn't so right about his step-brother after all, or maybe Jaebum just knew his own step-brother through and through. Either way, he felt better and more ready to explore whatever this was with Jackson.

Smiling wider, he pulled his textbook out of his bag and began to do his assignments with a renewed vigor. He had much to get done before the weekend and he was determined to finish it all, so he would have anything distracting him from one kind, sweet Jackson Wang.

  
  
  
  


Looking at us

〆

 

Jackson soaked in the view before him. The sun’s setting rays blending blue, orange, and red over the waves as lapped at the side of his ships anchored just beyond the harbor were a sight to behold. This was the same sight his father had showed him years ago before he passed suddenly.

He remembered the day like it was just yesterday. He had just gotten released from school and came to see his dad. When he walked into this same office, his dad had been hunched over his desk, searching for a document in frustration, but his mood had changed when their eyes met.

“Jackson, you're here!” his dad had exclaimed in unsuppressed glee.

“Hi, Dad. Need any help?” he asked.

“That's my boy! I'm looking for the Im contract. I know I didn't put it away -...”

“First drawer, labeled shipments,” he readily said. “I organized your files the last time I was here.”

“You're a blessing, son. Now, what brings you here?” his father asked, pulling the drawer open.

“Nothing. I just had some free time, so I thought I'd come over and help where I can. I want to learn.”

His father's smile brightened just a tad more and he felt glad he had voiced what he was feeling.

His father walked over to him and held him by the shoulders, looking into his eyes. “Slow down, Jackson. Be a kid for as long as you can. Don't get me wrong, Gaga. I love what I do, but there are time I wish I was at home with you and Mama. Enjoy your freedom. One day, I will pass this all down to you and it'll be a burden. Being CEO of a company as large as Wang Enterprise is more than just searching the office for a document.”

He deflated. “I know. I just thought that maybe if I helped, I'll take some of that burden off your shoulders.”

His dad smiled a sad smile. “All in due time, Gaga. One day, this will all be yours and you will have to be the one to take care of our family.”

He nodded his head, and his dad released him. The rest of the day was spent filing his dad's documents diligently and when they went home, his mom was waiting for them with dinner on the table and a smile for her favorite men.

It was one of the best days of his life. It was also the last day he spent with his dad in the office. He didn't know the weight of his dad's words and now, he wished he could go back to that day and tell his dad to get a check up. He wished he had seen the signs. He had been to naive and determined to be an adult, he didn't see the bags under his dad's eyes - the sluggish movements, the slump of his broad shoulders.

He turned away from the window with a sigh and began to gather his stuff from his desk, when his phone rang. He stood straight reaching into his breast pocket. A glance at it and the tears fattened on his waterline.

He placed the phone against his ear after accepting it. “Hello, Mama,” he whispered.

“Gaga? What's wrong?” his mom asked immediately in concern.

“Nothing, just thinking. It’s hard being here without him sometimes.”

His mom’s sigh filled his ears as the tears in his eyes slide down his cheek. “I know. You're coming home today, right?” she asked gently. “I miss you.”

He smiled through his tears. “Yeah, I’m coming home.” As much as he didn’t like to admit it, Seoul had become his home.

“Can you come over when you can?”

He nodded. “I will, Mama.”

“Okay. Now, I heard something through the grapevine…”

He perked up at this, but waited silently for his mom to continue.

“A little bird told me that you took a business major student under your wing.”

He chuckled. “Damn Im Jaebum for not being able to keep a secret from you. Yes, Mama, I did.”

“Is it strictly a professional relationship?”

“No,” he sighed.

“So, it’s more than that? Who is he?”

“He’s my hidden ace.”

“Your hidden ace?” she asked. The confusion in her voice was apparent.

“I'm hoping he'll be able to join our family one day, Mama.”

“He must be special, if you feel that way about him already.”

He smiled wider, thinking about Mark. “He is. He's a beautiful uncut gem, Mama. Maybe one day, when he's ready, you'll be able to meet him.”

“I look forward to meeting him. What’s his name?”

“Mark. Mark Tuan.”

His mother gasped. “Gaga, Tuan? As in Tuan Global?”

“Yes.”

“Gaga…”

“I know, Mama. It’s a risk, but it's a risk I'm willing to take.”

“Are you absolutely sure? Tuan Global is much larger than our little company.”

“I know.”

“You know you could always do this the right way…”

“I won’t put him in danger. You see what Jaebum goes through now. We were fortunate enough to shield me, and I can never thank Jaebum enough to continue doing so. It’ll be worst for him, if people find out he's a submissive, Mama.”

“America is much more accepting of the LGBTQ community,” his mom offered.

He shook his head, gathering the last of his belongings. “Tuan Global has connections here in Asia as well. They’ll lose a lot, if he comes out.”

“I see.”

“Mama, I gotta go so I can catch my flight. Minhyuk will be pissed if I miss the schedule flight time. Today is his son's birthday and he wants to get back in time for it.”

“Okay, Gaga. I'll see you tomorrow?”

“I'll see you tomorrow. I love you, Mama.”

“I love you, my son. Have a safe flight.”

He ended the call before a thought hit him, and he dialed Jessi.

His secretary answered the call on the second ring. “Jackson!”

“Jess, listen. I need you to have security aware that I'm expecting company on Saturday. In fact, I need you to have a car ready and waiting to pick up the guest.”

“Mr. Tuan?” she asked.

“You’re a smart girl, Jess.”

“I'll have it ready. Mark should be at the penthouse at 8:30 sharp. He called earlier to confirm the appointment time.”

“You're a blessing. I'll see you bright and early Monday morning.”

“Have a wonderful weekend, Sir.”

He chuckled at the tease. “You too, Jessi.”

He ended the call and shot a short text.

_I'll see you tomorrow, Mark. You'll never regret this decision._

The reply was more than what he expected, and he found himself smiling, excited for what waited for him at home.

_I have a feeling that I won’t. I’ll see you tomorrow, Sir._

He looked out the window and took in the view one more time. The twinkling stars were now visible in the backdrop of the blue-black velvet sky, looking like diamond spread out on a cloth. The waves of the water undulating giving him a peaceful feeling.

He was ready. He was armed and ready to take on the king and knight on the Im chess board, he just hoped that when everything was all said and done, Jaebum could find it in his heart to forgive him.

_Yes, this is a risk I am willing to take. Dad said that I have to take care of my family. Jaebum and Abeoji are a part of my family now._

He walked to his door and pulled it open. With one last look, he looked around his father's empty office. So many memories washing over him at once, so he soaked them all in and breathed out an shaky sigh. He didn’t know when he would be able to stand in this office again as the CEO, but it meant nothing when his family was hurting.

He closed his eyes as he closed the door, shutting the memories in his heart.

 _Family before business._ It was what his father meant. The family business was nothing, if he didn’t have a family to share in its prosperity. If it was one thing he lived by, it was those three words. His father's last three words before he slipped from this world.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Fool :
> 
> The Fool can be the first or last card in the Major Arcana deck. His number is 0. He has no place in the specific place in the deck. Contrary to common belief, the Fool is actually a good sign, mostly when upright.
> 
> The Fool card is usually depicted as a man with his minimal amount of clothes and belongings attached to a stick he carries as he walks off the edge of a cliff. He's all about living in the moment, acting on impulses, and letting go of all inhibitions - to have faith in the unknown and letting go of your worries and doubts.
> 
> Upright - Business/work, it means you should branch out on your own, but in a love reading, it means to let go and let yourself fall in love. Do something crazy, like get married.
> 
> Reversed - it means the opposite of all that. Stay where you are business-wise. Expect to get heart broken.
> 
> The Fool usually signifies the beginning or the end of a long and epic journey - that’s why he's seen walking off a cliff. It can either be the end of a journey or the beginning of an adventure.


	6. The Emporer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to get really rocky for everyone

_The Emperor_

_Chapter V_

_The Wonderland in My Memories_

〆

Jackson leaned his head back against the headrest of the chair and sighed as the plane hit a turbulent entrance into the clouds. No matter how many times he'd flown this route back to South Korea, it always brought him back to the first time he and his mother had flown there to start their lives afresh. The idea of having another older brother had been so scary that he couldn't contain the nervous bounce of his feet against the floorboard of the plane. The pain of losing his father had been fresh too, but he had been determined. Get back his dad's company, no matter what it took. That was the plan.

 

He had never imagined stepping into a household colder than the Arctic, but he did. The beginning days in Paradise Manor had been awkward and tense as he and his mother tried their best to settle into their new lives. The tension between the Im men then had been practically visible, like a frayed rope being pulled in opposite direction and precariously waiting for that one powerful tug to snap it in half altogether.

 

Getting on Im Taek Geun's good side had been a piece of cake. With Jaebum constantly getting into one altercation after another, it was easy to be “the good son.” What he didn't expect was to come to understand and sympathize with Jaebum. Although he loved his father dearly, they didn't share the same closeness as he did with his mom. He couldn't imagine losing her instead. With a heavy heart, he laid his plans to rest and helped Jaebum. It was a decision that he never once regretted.

 

Over the course of two years, he had come to know Jaebum - what made him happy and what made him tick - all the while keeping him out of trouble. It had been him that had introduce Jaebum to the world of BDSM in hopes that the elder would learn control and relieve his stress at the same time, and he had been right. His stepfather had found out about his son’s activities and he had thought he had been done for. Jaebum had never once mentioned that it had been his idea, and up to this day, never ratted him out, choosing to keep his private affairs between themselves and his mom. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t hate Jaebum. Much of his success in taking over Wang Communications as its CEO was thanks to Jaebum, and he never let the older forget it.

 

Now, more than a decade later, he was blowing the dust off that plan. Not long after he had taken over as CEO of Wang Communications, he had found that although his father's company had expanded significantly under Im Taek Geun, it was also slowly slipping under. Old contracts had never been renewed and the only contracts being drawn were for ImPac and its smaller business, ensuring that Wang Communications remained reliant on ImPac’s continuous funding to keep it afloat. It was a shell of a company it once was. He didn’t know how long he had before his stepfather decided it was more of a liability than an asset, but he wasn’t going to wait to find out.

 

The intercom in the plane came on and the pilot informed him that they were in Korean airspace. He was fifteen thousand miles away from home, and dread was already filling him with what was to come. It was now or never. Whatever inhibitions he had left, he shed them away then. His home was now a battleground. He was going to fight for what was rightfully his and return things to the way they were.

 

*****

Forcing a smiling on his face, Jackson took a deep breath and walked into the sitting room to find his mom sipping tea and reading a book. Her usually straightened hair was now braided and coiled, sitting on her crown. She looked like royalty even in her long white satin nightgown. For a woman in her early fifties, she looked half her age, but was still as sharp-minded as her son. She was the perfect model of a lady - kind, gracious, and courteous. A queen.

His heart instantly warmed at the sight and thought. “Mama,” he called to her softly, and a genuine smile blossomed on his face when she looked up at him. All his troubles melting away at the love that lit brightly in her eyes.

“Gaga,” she squeaked, jumping to her feet. She raced to him. “You’re home!” she practically screamed in his ear as she wrapped him in a tight embrace.

He chuckled at the familiar behavior. His mother was the least selfish in her hugs, but always forgot herself when it came to him. It was this reason alone that he never felt any less loved than before his father passed. “Yes.”

“How was your flight? Have a seat. Tell me all about it. Do you want something to drink, or eat? George,” she ended, calling for the butler breathlessly.

He chuckled much more fondly at her excitement. “Mama, calm down. I’m fine.”

She tsked. “Let me worry about you. I barely ever see you since you moved out,” she said pouting.

He chuckled as he sat beside her. Within a heartbeat, he was stretching out on the couch with his head in her lap. She smiled down at him and he closed his eyes with a contented sigh. “I'm sorry,” he whispered with a pout of his own before he began to talk, “Hong Kong isn't the same without you and Dad.”

He didn't have to open his eyes to know his mom was frowning. He felt the stutter in her hands that was now moving through his hair. “Home isn't a place, Gaga,” she replied after a moment of silence.

“I know. The office has too many memories, Mama. Memories I want to hold onto for the rest of my life, but…” he began to say, but hesitated.

“But what?” she asked, stopping her mid-stroke.

“Nothing,” he said shaking his head. Least of all people, he didn't want his mom stuck between a family feud.

“Gaga,” she said sternly.

He opened his eyes and winced inwardly at the deep frown on his mother's face. He reached up with a sad smile and soothed the frown away with a thumb. “It’s nothing I can't take care of.”

She nodded. “You'll tell me if it's too much, right?”

“I promise I will.”

“Good boy. Now tell me, how was the rest of your trip. Did you go see your grandma?”

He smiled fondly at the thought of his grandmother placing plate after plate of home cooked dishes before him. “Mama, am I too skinny?”

“Of course not. You're perfect just the way you are, Gaga. Why would you ask that?” she asked frowning slightly.

He chuckled, settling his head back on her lap more comfortably. “Grandma fed me enough to feed a small army.” That got her giggling and warmth filled him. It was nice to see her smile freely.

“And here I thought someone said you weren't.”

He chuckled himself. “The only person that yells out my flaws is Jaebum.”

She giggled some more before she sighed deeply. “I wish you both would find someone to make you happy and settle down. I want grandbabies.”

He looked away. “Maybe someday, Mama.”

They spoke for a little longer and he felt his eyes beginning to droop, sleep beckoning him. With a sigh, he sat up and looked at his mother. “I should head home.”

Her shoulders dropped. “Why don't you stay here for tonight?”

He nodded, giving in to the invitation. “Is Dad home?”

His mother shook her head. “He's out of the country.”

“Out of the country?”

“Taipei, this time. Something about getting wood.”

He frowned. It wasn't the first time he had heard of the travel arrangements, and he wasn't aware of the travel being about stocks and supplies. With exhaustion settling, he placed the mental note at the back of his mind for another time. He leaned in and enveloped his mother in a tight hug, placing kisses on her cheeks. “Good night, Mama.”

“Good night, Gaga.”

 

_That is better than the one in my fantasies_

〆

The penthouse loomed into view and his hands began to sweat even more profusely in his lap. His knee that had been bouncing since the afternoon, shook even more strongly. At this rate, he was afraid he would drill a hole into the car at its speed.

To say he was nervous was the understatement of the century. It was worth laughing at in another setting, but right now, he couldn't even find the capacity to huff snort one out.

Some time during the ride, he noticed the driver nervously stealing glances back at him from the rear view mirror. Self-conscious, he looked at the window and couldn't find anything on his face, so he bowed his head to ignore the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't until a few minutes ago, when said driver had announced that they were near Jackson's apartments did he look up.

A few minutes, they entered a dark underground parking lot and he strained his eyes looking out the front windshield to see where they were going. At the entrance, the driver brought the car to a halt and opened his window. He pulled a key card from the center console and swiped it into the machine and the barricade lifted, granting them entry. The garage lit up brightly and he watched at the lights came on one after another, illuminating the latest cars parked and sleek clean.

 _Wow,_ he thought to himself. _One of those can pay for my apartment here. Shit. I can probably eat my next meal off the hood of that car._

He shook his head, chastising himself for thinking something so ridiculous. _I've been living around the middle class long enough that now I think like them._

The driver stopped the car and killed them find before stepped out to open his door.

“Mr. Tuan,” a scratchy, deep and yet feminine voice called to him as he stepped out of the car.

He turned and found a robust female with long blonde hair and a red smile, standing off to the side beside an elevator.

“I'm Jessi,” she said, reaching out a hand for him to take.

He took hers in both hands and bowed in respect. “Hi. Please, call me Mark,” he said shakily.

“Mark, then,” she replied happily. “I'm-”

“Jackson's secretary,” he finished for her, releasing her hand and taking a step back.

She smiled even more brightly as she nodded her head. “Yes,” she said, turning away. “Follow me. We only have a few minutes before he calls me screaming.”

Timidly, he followed her to the elevators. Before the doors could slide close, she turned to him again. “Don't be nervous. Jackson is not as intimidating as he makes himself to be. He's like a toothless tiger - unless of course, you really push his buttons, the his flaws come out. I doubt you will push him that far though. You seem like a pretty nice guy. For once, I'm not hesitant about one of his subs-...”

“So, he's done this a lot?” he interjected.

“That's- that's not what I meant.”

He smirked, relaxing a bit in her presence. “It’s okay. I'm- I'm not the jealous type.”

She flashed him a look of surprise. “Really?”

He shook his head. “At all.”

“Wow. I like you. I mean, not in that way ‘cause you know…,” she said, waving her hands around as if they could finish what she couldn’t word.

He chuckled. “I know.”

She guffawed. “I'm a mess today. I'm sorry. It's been a long day.”

“I can imagine,” he said, glancing up at the numbers that grew as they ascended.

“Anyways, from here on out, you'll be addressing him as ‘Sir,’ while here. In a more public setting, you'll address him as ‘Mr. Wang,’ unless otherwise instructed by him. Understood?”

He nodded.

“I actually need an affirmative answer,” she said, looking at him expectantly. She had a pen in her hand hovering over a piece of paper on her clipboard that was braced on her waist.

“Oh. Yeah, sure. Of course, I understand.”

She checked a box, before speaking again. “You'll be in charge of his health and welfare in the duration of your time as his submissive - so in short, meals, sleep, and rest. You'll have to remind him that these things exist. Lord knows, Jackson doesn't know what these words are,” she said, rolling her eyes heavenwards.

“I-I understand.” _I understand I have to play Mommy with him sometimes,_ he thought sheepishly.

“You do understand no one can know about your relationship, correct?”

He chuckled again softly. The nervous clawing in his stomach that had began to subside came back again full force when the elevator dinged their arrival. “I understand,” he whispered hoarsely. Feeling self-conscious again, he cleared his voice and repeated himself with a shake of his head. “I understand.”

She let out a laugh. “Okay.” She set her pen on the clipboard and turned it to him. “Sign.”

The non-disclosure form on the clipboard was redundant, but he picked up the pen anyways and signed his name on the line above his printed name, noticing that Jackson had already signed the form.

Before he could ask Jessi anything, she looked at him solemnly and indicated to enter. “You'll find him in the living room.”

He nodded, forgetting what he was going to ask her and stepped out of the elevator. The door began to close and she pinned the clipboard between her arm and side, lifted both her fisted hands shoulder-high with a smile. “Fighting!” she whispered excitedly.

He grinned sheepishly. _At least one person is rooting for me._

He turned back to the apartment and took it in slowly. It was as grand as he expected it to be. Not as grand as his parents’ home, but grand all the same. The place screamed money and he almost had the urge to laugh at his earlier thought about the cars in the parking garage.

 _Tammy would laugh, if she knew what I was thinking right now,_ he thought smiling to himself.

He walked down the hall, finding the living room immediately. His breath caught in his throat when he took in the view. The glittering Seoul night lights lit up an entire floor-to-ceiling windows across the room spectacularly that for a second the nervous feeling subsided again.

 _This was a bad idea,_ he thought shaking his head. He spun on his heels, ready to walk out when he collided into something solid. Groaning, he rubbed his forehead and a smooth chuckle filled his ears.

“Going somewhere?” Jackson asked, pulling his hand away from his face by his wrist.

He forgot how to breath as he took the man in. Jackson was dressed in nothing, but a pair of old grey sweatpants. His muscles torso glistened with water. Droplets of it, still dripping from his locks onto his pale chest and the small towel draped around his neck.

Simply put, Jackson was every person's wet dream, and he was no exception, watching in rapt fascination as Jackson turned away to pour himself a glass of water.

“Thirsty?” the man asked, turning back to him with a tumbler in his hand, half filled with water.

 _Parched,_ he thought, but shook his head. He ran his tongue over his chapped lips.

“Words, Mark,” Jackson reminded him, taking a sip from the glass.

“No. I'm fine, Sir.”

“Good boy.”

He looked around, anywhere save at the man half-naked traipsing around the room, but he was given no choice but look back when Jackson spoke again.

“Have you eaten, Mark?” the brunette asked.

He clamped his mouth shut.

Jackson tsked, shaking his head. “How do expect to take care of me when you can't take care of yourself?” he asked, walking into the kitchen.

He swallowed thickly as his eyes landed on Jackson's muscled back twitching beneath his skin with each step he took. “I couldn’t really stomach anything,” he said as loudly as he could, following the elder.

“Nervous?” Jackson asked as he pulled a pot out.

He nodded before he remembered what the other had said beforehand. “Yes, Sir.”

He saw the soft smile that flirted with the corners of Jackson's lips. “We don't have to do anything tonight. In fact, we don't have to do anything you don't want to do - at least, not until you're comfortable. I need you to trust me first, Mark.”

“What if I never feel comfortable?” he wondered out loud.

Surprisingly, Jackson shrugged. “I guess you'll continue to address me as ‘Sir’ and we remain friends.”

“Is that even an option?”

Jackson placed the pot down on the counter and turned to him then. His eyes were dark and controlled. “Mark,” he said sighing. “In truth, I like you, so I won't go anywhere you're not comfortable going. I want your full consent before we do anything. For tonight, let's just get to know each other.”

He nodded his understanding. “Thank you, sir.”

Jackson smiled fully then, satisfied with the appreciation before he resumed his activities. “Have a seat,” he commanded, indicating a stool across the counter.

He didn't arguing. His knees feeling like jelly as he looked at Jackson. He moaned his satisfaction as he sat and Jackson’s smile melted into a smirk. He focused his full attention on Jackson as the elder began to whip up a meal.  

In no time at all, the sweet smell of samgyetang filled the kitchen and his stomach began to groan in protest having been denied existence for too long already. Sometime during the quietness, Jackson had found the time to pour him a glass of red wine, but it had done little to curb the hunger he was beginning to feel.

The elder glanced up at him with a disapproving look. “When was the last time you ate something?”

Embarrassed, he looked away. “About twenty-four hours ago,” he whispered, flushing slightly.

“A whole day ago?” Jackson huffed out, leaning against the counter. He shook his head sternly, pursing his lips. “Mark, you can’t be skipping meals. From here on out, three square meals a day, understood?”

He nodded albeit shyly, flushing at his open admiration of the elder’s lips. There was something attractive about the man’s when he was irritated.

“Words, Mark,” the man hissed.

He winced in surprise at the sharp irritation evident in Jackson’s voice. “Yes, sir.” There was an awkward moment of silence as he slowly built up his courage again to speak. “I’ll eat three meals, if you eat three meals,” he challenged.

Jackson looked up at him, not bothering to hide the surprise he felt. The irritated look disappeared from the Chinese man's face as a smile grew in its place. To his surprise, the man nodded. “Okay. Deal!” Jackson exclaimed,  grabbing a large bowl out of a cabinet. “Although,” he added as he poured broth into the bowl. “How can I trust that you’ll keep to your end of the deal?”

He smiled. “Trust is a two-way street.”

“Touche,” Jackson whispered under his breath, placing pieces of chicken into the bowl.

Dishes of food began to appear in front of him and he began to worry that they weren’t eating alone. “Is this all for us?”

“This is all for you,” Jackson corrected, arching a brow at him.

“I can’t eat all this alone,” he squeaked, but Jackson waved a hand at him.

“Eat as much as you want. This is a rare occasion. I don’t usually cook for my subs. In fact, I’ve never cooked for any of them - come to think of it.”

He flushed deeper, thinking about the massive amount of subs Jackson must’ve had in the past and how he was being bestowed this honor. “Then why now?”

The man shrugged nonchalantly. “Like I said, Mark - I like you.”

His flush deepened impossibly. “Thank you,” he said hesitantly, not really knowing how to reply to the confession.

Thankfully, Jackson shrugged that off too. “Dig in,” he commanded, placing a bowl of rice before him.

“What about you?” he asked.

“I ate already.’

“I hate eating alone,” he hinted.

With a sigh, Jackson took out a bowl for himself and scooped a tiny portion of rice into it before taking a seat beside him. He smiled at the man timidly as he picked up his spoon. “Bon appetit.”

Jackson smiled softly back at him and they began to eat. His thoughts began to drift to two weeks ago when he had shared a meal with Jaebum, and how comfortable it was sitting with him compared to Jackson. Although the atmosphere had been awkward at first like with Jackson, they had eased into a comfortable silence. With Jackson, it was different. There was a line - invisible, but there - and he couldn’t help, but wonder how to bridge it.

“Why do you not eat three meals?” he tried.

Jackson shrugged again, not taking his eyes off his bowl. “Too busy,” he said dismissively.

“Business overruling your meal times?”

It was idle chit chat, and he knew it, but the air was becoming too thick with the awkwardness he felt.

This time Jackson nodded. “I try to take a bite between meetings, but sometimes, meetings tend to take a bite out of meal times.”

He huffed out a laugh. “That’s not good. Will I have to be taking meals to you in your office?” he teased.

Jackson looked up at him then with a smirk. “Do you want to?”

His laughter grew. “Will you take me on your desk?”

Jackson’s smile grew impossibly wider. “I can probably pencil that into my schedule.”

He smiled against his spoon at the thought. A warmth filled him as silence descended on them again. Not wanting to lose it, he turned back to Jackson. “You can take me on this counter, if that’s what you want.”

“Fuck! You have a mouth on you, huh?”

He smiled devilishly, shrugging his shoulder. “Or so I’ve been told.”

Jackson gave him a sidelong look. “What else have you been told?” he asked lowly, smirking a little.

He floundered, blushing deeply. He'd never been told much. His past lovers never making much effort. In the end, their excuses for leaving him all the same. “Not much, if I'm really being honest. I've never been in a relationship lasting more than five months.”

Jackson frowned at that. “Why?”

“Fear.”

“Of?”

He shrugged, not really knowing how to explain himself. “Perception.”

The elder flashed him a look of understanding. For a moment, he found it really odd, but before he could dwell on it, Jackson swiveled in his stool to face him. “The public or family?”

He bowed his head feeling exposed. “The public.”

Jackson pursed his lips. “Here's the thing, Mark. I fear them too.”

He looked up in surprise at the confession. It was the last thing expected the elder to say. “Why? I mean…”

Jackson shook his head, cutting him off. “Can you keep a secret?”

He nodded. “Non-disclosure form and all,” he replied shortly as an explanation.

“The board doesn't know I'm a dominant. All they know is that - like Jaebum - I prefer the same sex. For years, Jaebum has been standing between me and the board.”

It dawned on him then. “So, that's why…”

Jackson nodded. “So when I say you're safe with me, I mean it.”

He sighed, sagging in relief. “Thank you for telling me.”

The elder smiled softly, going back to his meal. “Eat before your soup gets cold.”

With more enthusiasm, he turned back to his food, but a thought struck him. “But how will you explain… well, me,” he asked, turning back.

Jackson smirked. “Live-in companion. You needed a place to stay while you finish your exchange studies and I'm letting you stay here as a friend.”

“But I don't…,” he began to say, but was cut short by the glint in Jackson's eyes.

“You will,” Jackson said simply shrugging his shoulders.

“What makes you so confident about that?” he challenged.

“You'll come to find that I'm not so bad. You'll actually come to like me.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“I'm gonna let that one go, Mark,” the elder whispered.

Somehow the warning had reached him softly, but dangerously and he found himself inching away from the man slowly. He fidgeted in his seat.

“I won't hurt you, Mark,” Jackson said frowning. The man turned himself to face him full-on again after placing his spoon down.

The gentle way Jackson took his hands in his shook him to the core, and his heart fluttered slightly by the gesture. Warmth filled him from Jackson's hands, and he found himself falling into the depths of Jackson's dark brown eyes. The odd warmth he found there was comforting and he began to relax again.

“Remember that no matter what, your safety comes first and foremost. You can trust me, Mark. I will never hurt you. My priority right now is your confort. If you don't trust me, say so right now.”

To his own surprise as well, he whispered, “I trust you.”

A small smile jerked at the corners of Jackson's lips. “Just like that? Are you sure?”

“Weird, but I trust you.”

The smile bloomed. “You won't regret it, Mark.”

“Jackson-”

The smile became wistful and inquisitive, and a hum slipped past.

“Teach me to trust you more.”

The smile faded completely and the pink flesh thinned. He found himself wanting to kiss those lips back into a smile. He tore his gaze away from them and looked into Jackson's eyes. Contemplation. Weariness. Worry. They were all written there.

“We can start off light, and work our way up. I can trust you, but I think it's just the room that scares me, if I'm being honest. I've only heard or read of what goes on in BDSM, but I've never… I've never seen it in person or been a submissive, so all I know are things that sound more like myths.”

Amusement twinkled in Jackson’s eyes. “Myths, huh?”

He blushed.

“Mark, are you sure?”

He took a breath, steeling himself. “Yes.”

Jackson nodded. “Go straight down the hall. Don't deviate. Don't stray anywhere. Strip off at the end of it, fold your clothes up and place them on the floor on the left side door. Kneel on the right. I'm going to wash the dishes and I'll be right there.”

His breath caught for a second in surprise. There was a very significant difference of tone in Jackson’s voice. Where Jackson's voice was tender and playful earlier, this voice was strong, steady, clear and authoritative. It left no room for argument or misinterpretation. It was every bit as dominating as Mark expected a dominant to be.

Wordlessly, yet nervously, he stood and did as he was told. He walked to the end of the hall and with shaky fingers, he pulled his shirt over his head. He took another steadying breath before he reached for his jeans button. For just the briefest of seconds, he hesitated.

_Am I doing the right thing? Is this what you want? Being told what to do, like a child?_

He brushed the thoughts away. Yes. For once, he wanted to let go. He wanted to not worry about anything, but what was in front of him. He wanted to be selfish and take everything given to him freely. He wanted to leave the outside world and find something - anything to renew that spark he once felt for living. He wanted to feel _alive._

He pushed his pants down to his ankles and peeled his socks off. He gulped down the breath he was holding and closed his eyes. _Breath in, and let it go. Let it all go, Mark._ He opened his eyes and folded up his clothes. He placed them on the left side of the door as he was instructed to do and knelt on the right side. He placed his hands on his lap and straightened his back.

Ten minutes passed, and he heard clattering in the kitchen continue. His knees began to ache from kneeling on the wooden floors, and still he waited. His back began to falter, but he took a deep breath and concentrated on his folded clothes across from him. It took all his will not to tap the pads of his fingers against his thigh with impatience.

Just as he began to mentally back out, soft footfall began to approach. By this time, he knew he was flushed with embarrassment and shame.

_What am I doing?_

A hand fell on his shoulders and he looked up at Jackson. The man was looking down at him with approval and he felt the blush reach his cheeks.

“Good boy,” Jackson said softly, caressing his cheek before he offered a hand. “Now, come.”

He placed his hand in Jackson’s, grateful for the help. He waited as Jackson unlocked the door and step in to follow. The interior of the room was much like Jaebum's playroom with its blood red and black furniture, but it was the other colors that caught his eyes. They were odd against the color scheme of the room - some gold, some silver, others a vibrant shade of blue and purple, and spots of nude. If Jaebum's was immaculate, Jackson's room was wild.

“Choose anything, Mark. Choose anything you think you can handle and lay it on the bed.”

He glanced back at Jackson in surprise. “I -...”

“I know you don't. Like I said we'll start small and go from there, but for now, choose what makes feel the least intimidated.”

He nodded and walked to the far wall adorned with a crops of different styles. It took him a minute, but he found what he was looking for - a standard crop fashioned thick at the handle but thinned to form the neck and tipped with a looped strap of leather. He turned to go back and give Jackson the crop, but found the man standing right behind.

“It seems harmless enough,” he said shortly. Even to his ears, he sounded breathless and realized then, he was nervous. His heart was racing a thousand miles an hour. He took a deep breath.

Jackson smiled softly at him. “Don't be nervous, Mark. You're safe with me.”

He offered a smile instead of replying.

“Go kneel by the bed and wait,” Jackson said - back was the firm authoritativeness in his voice.

He shuffled towards the bed. He looked around unsure of where exactly to kneel.

“Right there is fine,” Jackson deep voice carried to him.

He sank to his knees, taking care to tuck his heels under his naked ass. He looked down at his hands on his lap and frowned slightly at how they automatically lay splayed across his thigh.

“Very good, Mark.”

He warmed at the praise, bowing his head down further to hide the apples of his cheeks.

“Now, lift your head, Mark.”

He looked up, the surface of the bed was eye level with him. From where he knelt, he could see that the sheet was a red satin and there was not a single crinkle on it.

“From here on out, Mark, you'll call me Sir,” Jackson said. “Your safe word is ‘boxes.’ Once you so much as utter the word, everything stops. Do you understand?”

He nodded.

“I need a verbal answer, Mark.”

“Yes, sir,” he replied. There was a strength in his voice that betrayed the nervousness he felt. Jackson has even touched him and he felt giddy with excitement. His cock starting to rise to the occasion.

“Very good. Now, close your eyes.”

Obediently, he shut them, taking a deep breath in, and waited. Soft satin covered his eyes as Jackson tied it behind his head. Not enough to crush his ears to his head, but firm enough to stay in place. From how they slid across his skin and caught on the bridge of his nose, he felt the double layer. There was no way he could see even if he opened his eyes.

“You beautiful in this position, Mark. You're breathtaking.”

A soft gasp escaped him. A shiver ran up his spine at the timbre in Jackson’s voice. His cock twitched with interest.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Yes, Sir,” he answer breathlessly.

“Good. You're not allowed to cum until I tell you to. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Just feel, Mark. Open your mind up and just listen to my voice. Let me guide you into my world gently.”

He concentrated on Jackson’s voice, taking strength from the soothing tone. His breathing became more and more shallow.

“The crop brings more heat than pain. I will never hurt you and will never go where you're not comfortable. Tonight is about you. Do you understand?”

He gulped. “Yes, Sir.”

The tip of the cold crops leather laid flat against the small of his back and he flinched away shivering, but it stayed press against his skin persistently.

“Relax. I'm gonna trust you to keep your hands where they are. No touching. Just feel, Mark.”

He forced himself to relax into the leather and it slide softly up his spine sending shiver upon shiver up to the nape of his neck.

“You have a very beautiful neck, Mark. Slender, kissable, pink. I wonder what it would look like with my hand around it as I fuck into you from behind.”

The crop slapped between his shoulder blades and he gasped in surprise before moaning. To his astonishment, it stung for about two seconds, but like Jackson had said, the pain gave way to heat and it travel down to his groin where it pooled and begged for more.

“I want to see you bright and glowing pink as fuck into you. I'll mark your back with my bites. Right here.”

The second slap landed under his left shoulder blade, and he moaned again unable to help himself. Jackson erotic voice combined with the physical stimulation and the blindfold was opening his mind to a scene of him on his hands and knees, rocking back into Jackson's lap as the man thrusted his cock deep into him.

His cock began to pulsate lowly, but by the fifth, it was throbbing with need, and with every slap of the crop, Jackson painted details into the scene making it clearer and clearer until it played in his mind like a movie. The tenth landed on his collarbone and by then, he was whimpering, silently begging for release. His body had become so relaxed, and yet, it buzzed with barely contained energy.

He was sure his back, chest, arms and thighs had red rectangular shapes littered across it, but he didn’t care. The constant zing of heat had his cock weeping precum and all he wanted was release.

“Please,” he whimpered on the thirteenth strike.

“Two more, Mark. Just two more.”

He bit his lip waited for the next slap. It landed on his thigh, too close to his balls and he shook violently.

“Hold it back, Mark. You can't cum until I tell you to.”

“Yes, Sir,” he said weakly, trying to think of anything except the crop so close to where he needed it most.

The last slap landed against his left nipple and it was only then he realized how hard they had become. The cry he let out was strained and weak, but filled with so much frustration mixed with relief that he found himself wondering how much of a masochist he really was. The experience was enlightening to say the least.

The room went quiet save for his heavy breathing before he felt Jackson's hands on his waist, lifting him. He felt like he was floating on air. Jackson's touch on his heated skin was like an add stimulation to his senses, but he fought hard against the urge to come undone. It was clear Jackson wasn't done with him and he was determined to see the experience through to the end.

The man laid him on the bed before leaning in, licking at his lips then kissing him hard. The pent up desire and lust made him open up like a sunflower to the sun, sampling what Jackson was giving him. Despite his desperation, he was faintly aware Jackson was still fully dressed, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He just needed. He needed what Jackson was offering - _relief._ He wrapped his arms and legs around Jackson, pulling him closer

A hand snaked between their bodies and grasped his cock. It was cold and he gasped. The fire dwindled slightly, but came back like a furnace stoked too highly when Jackson applied the perfect amount of pressure around him.

On a choked out moan, he bucked up into Jackson’s palm. “Please.”

“Please what, Mark?” Jackson whispered sparsely against his neck.

He whimpered pathetically, “Pl-please let me cum. Please.”

Jackson pulled away, nearly lifting him off the bed, and he cried out in frustration. “You'll have to be more specific, Mark. What do you want?”

“I want you, Sir. Please. A-anything. Your mouth. Your cock. Anything- just please let me cum.”

“Mouth, huh?” Jackson asked, leaning down again to capture his nipple between his lips. His tongue expertly lapped at the sensitive tip teasingly before wrapping around him.

The slick heat enveloped him and he bucked wildly into it, helpless against the onslaught of pleasure. His nails raked the skin of his thighs. It was torture and yet, enough to make him go crazy. He wanted to touch Jackson, but was too afraid to pry his hands away from his thighs - too afraid of that he couldn't take anymore of the crop without coming before he was commanded to.

He shook. His knees felt too weak to stand on. His ears rang in his ears and everything around him became white noise. “Please, Sir. I need… I need more.”

Distantly, he heard the lewd pop as Jackson released him and he whined at the loss.

“Let go, Mark. Let me see you in your element of pleasure,” Jackson whispered against the skin of his groin. His hot breath brushing against his wet cock.

He tried to chase the mouth and would've stumbled right on Jackson if his new master hadn't caught him by his hips to steady him.

“Mark,” Jackson said hissed with little bite. “If you want something, you simply need to ask.”

He whimpered. “Please, I want to cum, Sir.”

“Then, let go.”

“I need more,” he groaned hoarsely. What he meant by more, he didn't know. All he knew was he needed a stronger shove to fall over the edge.

“Spread your legs,” Jackson said, tapping on his inner thigh.

He just barely saw himself in his mind's eye. The sight of himself splayed out like a feast as Jackson knelt above him so close to his most intimate region. He saw himself flushed red and clawing at his thighs was the most erotic vision he'd ever imagine. The vision was mind blowing and he wanted Jackson wrapped around him again. He need it. With weak legs, he inched his thighs apart.

His heel barely made contact with the sheets again before Jackson’s mouth swallowed him whole. The muscles of his throat hugged his tip and squeezed and he doubled over the man. A cold lubed finger circled his rim and he gasped in surprise. His fear got the better of him and he reached blindly for Jackson's shoulder to brace himself as his abdominal muscle spasmed under the assault.

Jackson didn’t stutter in his movements. The squeezing continued and on the fifth squeeze the finger plunged knuckle deep into him. The tip grazed his prostate and despite the blindfold, bright lights blinded him. His heart froze. He choked on a scream of surprise and his entire frame shook with pleasure.

Spurt after spurt of his release jetted into Jackson’s eager, pliant throat and the swallowing continued, milking him. The finger crooked and straightened, scratching at his prostate and he lost himself. He floated. He flew. He passed out - too overwhelmed by the pleasure of relief.

 

_Now I'm an adult, so will you be my dream now?_

〆

Laying Mark on the bed, he sat on the edge and smoothed a stray strand away from his beautiful face. His heart had thundered in his chest while he was washing the dishes. He had just about decided to call the entire thing off before he made his way to the playroom. The sight that had greeted him as he looked down the hall, dispelled all thoughts of backing out.

Jackson had known that Mark was beautiful, but actually seeing him in the most submissive position without guidance was magnificent. The sight of Mark kneeling, waiting for him with his eyes downcast, had filled him pride. The younger had made it look natural, comfortable, elegant - albeit the obvious nervousness that rolled off him in waves.

He bit of a curse, staring at Mark. _Letting you go will be painful. I can't apologize to you right now because you won't understand, and I can only pray you won't hate me in the end, but I hope to God I'm not wrong about you._

From the moment he had seen Mark in the Red Dragon, he had known. The brief bravery that sparked in his eyes right before he bowed gracefully in apology had had his cock twitching in interest. From that moment, he found it hard not to imagine Mark naked in various positions, flushed and shaking with barely contained pleasure.

Tonight had just been a taste of what was to come. Mark had passed the first test of submission - addressing him as ‘sir.’ Only a brief moment of disappointment had crossed him throughout the trial, but it had been easy to ignore.

The tight grip Mark had had on his shoulders had sent a fiery shot to his loins. The dig of his nails across his skin had been sensuous. He smiled to himself as he reached up to his left shoulder. The tiny crescents were still embedded in his skin and slightly sensitive, making his cock harden even further. He wanted to crawl into the bed and make sweet love to Mark and satiate the need to plunge his cock where he wanted to so badly.

He shook his head and stood. _Those are dangerous thoughts._

He whirled on his heels and left the room, angry at himself for his lack of restrain. He walked down the hall to his study and sat at his desk, staring blankly at the sheets laid neatly in front of his computer. He took a deep breath and fidgeted, his hard cock straining against his pants.

Not ten minutes later, his phone rang and he scowled. “What?” he growled into the phone in frustration.

“Aww, Daddy, training not going so well?” the voice purred at him.

Immediately, he relaxed, longing filled him like a train wreck every single time he so much as heard that voice. “Hi, baby. How's Thailand?”

“Lonely. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. Soon, baby. I promise you. Soon - I'll have everything straightened out here and I'll be coming home to you.”

“Are you absolutely sure you want to do this? I mean, Jaebum is the closest thing you have to a brother, and this will hurt him if it goes south.”

He could feel the muscles of his jaw tense at the possibility. “I'll just have to make sure it doesn't.”

“You know, I love you, right?”

“Yes, of course, and I love you, too, baby.”

“Then can you just ditch this absurd plan?”

For a brief moment, he hesitated. There was nearly nothing he wouldn't do for his baby boy, but this was something he wanted to see through. To steer the conversation away, he gave in to a jealousy he hasn't felt in a while. “Are you still in love with him?”

“No,” the answer came through the speaker sharply. “No,” the answer came again this time softer and on a sigh. “I'm… I'm just scared. Jaebum is just… He's so unpredictable these days. He's so deep in his dark thoughts that he can't seem to trust anyone except you. If he loses you, I don't know what will become of him.”

“You care about him.”

“I care about _you_. I know what it'll do to you, if he loses faith in you and ends up a shell of himself.”

Again, the younger was right. “This is why I love you, baby. You always know what's best for me,” he said smiling as he leaned back in his chair.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” he replied, pushing at the waistband if his sweats. He reached in and grasped his cock. “And you know what I need right now?”

A moan. “What?”

“I need your ass bouncing on my cock. I need you squeezing me so tight - I see stars.”

“Fuck, Daddy.”

“Are you touching yourself?” he asked, imagining his finger prepping the younger. Lewd images of his lover face down, ass up tormented him.

“No, it's never as good as when you do it.”

He groaned. “God, I miss you, baby.”

“Then hurry, Daddy. You know where to find me.”

_I'll find a love_

〆

Jaebum sighed inwardly as he sat across from Yoo Youngjae, unsure if he would regret the decision he made later, or not. The younger in lots of ways fulfilled his physical needs. In fact, he was a perfect submissive. Pliant, willing, strong… broken in. He lacked challenge.

Training was easy. Too easy. Aside from his sexual appetite, his other needs weren't fulfilled. What those needs were, he didn't know. All he knew was that, Yoo Youngjae wasn't what he _needed._

He locked his jaw and whispered the words that would break their arrangement forever. “I'm freeing you.”

“What?” Youngjae asked, looking up at him with pain in his eyes.

His heart locked up as tight as his jaw and he cursed silently at his weak heart. “I'm freeing you, Youngjae.”

“Why?”

Shocked, he leaned back in his chair and schooled his features. _Am I losing my touch?_ “I no longer need you services.”

“My services?” Youngjae bit out, anger written all over his soft features.

“Yes.” It was with all intents and purposes a harsh answer, but something told him it was better this way - a messy break.

Youngjae stood up to leave before addressing him again. The anger in his eyes were gone. “You're trying to hard, Jaebum.”

He looked up and frowned at Youngjae. It was the second time Youngjae had said his name. The first was in avid interest. This time it sounded… pitiful? “Trying to hard?” he asked, arching a brow. Anger began to boil in his veins.

“Yeah. If I'm not what you need, just say so. Right now, you're trying to be a dick, but in the weeks I've known you, you've been the complete opposite. The real _you_ . The _you_ that has a huge heart that fortified against human emotions. You act like it's impenetrable, but the truth is that it's fragile and seeping out at the corners. This is not the life you want, but it's the life you need. I hope you find what you're looking for before you go completely mad.”

He leaned forward and rested his hands on his head, combing his finger through his hair in frustration. “What is that supposed to even mean? Everyone keeps hoping I find something like I've lost it, but no one ever tells me what it is. What am I looking for?”

“That’s a question only you can answer.”

He growled looking up at his sub. “Get out,” he barked. “If you can't answer it then get out. The last thing I need is a sub telling me what I need.”

Yoo Youngjae simply shook his head and walked out. As soon as the door was shut, he lay his head back and bit down against the dull thumping in his head and he peeked through one eye when the door opened again. Choi Youngjae his long-time friend and personal assistant walked in with a glass of water and some tablets.

Without being asked, he took the pills and swallowed them before washing it down with the glass of water. “What do you have for me?”

“Nothing. Go home, Hyung.”

“Youngjae, “ he tried to warn, but after the confrontation with his sub, the warning sounded weak even to his ears. He laid his throbbing head back against the top of the backrest of the chair. “You know how well I do with orders.”

“It's not an order, sir. It's a recommendation. Tomorrow, you have a breakfast meeting with Jackson and afterwards, you have an engagement luncheon to attend with the Kims.”

“An engagement luncheon?” he asked opening one eye to gauge his assistant’s expression.

“Yes.”

He sighed. “Can I cancel?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“He's the face of the hotel ad.”

“Well, fuck.” He sighed again before opening his eyes and standing. “Can I just see Jackson tonight?”

“No.”

He arched a brow, twisting to look at Youngjae. “Why?”

“He had a prior engagement.”

“What?” he asked, turning fully to begin grilling the younger. “What on earth can Wang Jackson be doing on a Friday night that's much more important than seeing his own step-brother?”

“Mark.”

It was one simple name, and yet he found himself imagining the young man naked sprawled on a bed and tied to the bedpost. The thought didn’t sit well with him. He turned away from Youngjae and walked towards the coat hanger in the corner.

“You're right,” he said lowly, trying hard to conceal his interest.

“Jaebum?”

He hummed a reply.

“Are you attracted to Mark?”

He paused, thinking to himself. _Am I?_ “Don't be ridiculous, Youngjae. He's Jackson's.”

“That doesn't mean shit, Hyung, and you know it.”

He rounded on Youngjae. “Are you implying that I would stoop so low as to steal my own step-brother's submissive?” he asked darkly.

Youngjae lifted his head, clenching his jaw. “No, I'm asking if you're attracted to him. I'm saying that it happens - that it's natural to feel attracted to someone. I just want your honesty, Hyung.”

“With what motive? How will my answer change anything?”

“For one, it'll give me a heads up on what the future may hold,” Youngjae replied frustratedly.

Youngjae had never been impatient with him - always ready to tackle his obstacles with him. Not once since the younger started working for him, did he use a tone different than formal and he found himself stepping back.

He sighed yet again, this time in defeat. “Yes. I'm attracted to him, but I can't do anything about it. Like I said - he's Jackson's.”

Youngjae arched both brows, his eyes bulging out as his head stuttered forward and to the side in a comical way. “Was that that so hard to admit?”

He didn't bother to reply. He hung his jacket and coat in his arm and walked towards the younger. When they stood side by side, he placed a hand on Youngjae’s shoulder. “Do I make things difficult for you?”

The younger turned his head and looked at him a concerned look on his usually bright face. “No.”

There was no hesitation in his reply and yet, Jaebum couldn’t help the nagging feeling in his gut. “I'll text Jackson tonight and arrange for a later meeting. I'll attend the Kims’ event. Anything else after that?”

In a quiet voice, Youngjae replied, “No. I cleared your schedule for the rest of the day and the day after.”

He frowned and was about to ask why when it but him. The full brunt of the assault hit him in the heart like a battle drum. The headache that had been a dull throb was now pounding and excruciating. He turned away from Youngjae and briskly walked out of his office.

He blindly walked through the quiet building and by the time he was standing outside, his tie was loose and he was shaking. Fourteen years had passed and yet, the pain of losing his mom was still great. He had been so wrapped up in Jackson's affairs he nearly missed his mother's birthday.

His driver pulled up and he didn't wait for the man to come and open the door. He slid into the back seat and unbuttoned his shirt and began to take deep breaths. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. “Take me to the nearest bar.”

“Sir…” his man asked in confusion.

He could practically feel the man's confused gaze on him through the rearview mirror.

“I said ‘take me to the nearest fucking bar.’”

The driver teeth claimed shut and the car began to move.

Tonight, he’ll let go just a little. Just enough to numb the pain a little. Tomorrow… tomorrow he'll figure out how he'll smother the pain altogether after meeting Jackson and the Kims. He just needed a little to forget how much of a shitty son he was for forget his mom.

A vibration in his coat pocket startled him and he scrambled between his coat and jacket to find his phone. Im Taek Geun's name in block letters came across the top of the screen had him frowning.

“Hello?”

“Jaebum,” his father said in lieu of a greeting.

“What do you need?” he growled into the speaker.

“I had to leave early and Jackson wouldn't step in as interim CEO. I need you to step in. There will be a board meeting tomorrow evening at 4pm. I need you to attend the meeting in my place. It shouldn't be all that hard since you should be there as well - as COO.”

He bit his lip. “You asked Jackson to step in as interim?”

“Now, Jaebum. It's only fair I ask him.”

“How is it fair? You know Jackson has Wang Communications to handle. I should've been the obvious choice as your heir,” he hissed unable to control the boiling rage rising to the surface.

“We already spoke about this, Jaebum! The board doesn't feel that you're ready step in in my place.”

“Stepping in and taking over for you is different from stepping in as interim.”

There was silence over the line.

“But you knew that already.” He guffawed a short laugh. “Of course. I mean, you make up most of the board anyways. I should've realized that when you say ‘the board,’ you really mean you.”

“You aren't ready.”

“The hell I'm not! I’ll step in as interim, but afterwards, I'm leaving the company.”

“Jaebum…” his father growled.

“No. Make no mistake, _Dad._ I'll prove to you that I can build my own empire with my own two hands and when I do, I'll come for ImPac with everything I've got.”

Another silence filled the line and he was almost sure his father hung up on him before his father openly challenged him. “Fine. If you're so desperate to get out from under my wing, go. But don't expect me to be waiting with open arms when you fail.”

“I never did,” he hissed through clenched teeth before hanging up.

The driver glanced at him from the rearview. “Would you like me to call Mr. Wang to accompany you, Sir?”

“No, he's busy. I changed my mind. Take me home.”

His driver nodded curtly before finding a place to turn the vehicle. As they made their way home, he looked out the window and his thoughts drifted to his threat. Buying out ImPac meant buying out Wang Communications. Buying out ImPac meant angering Jackson and exposing the state Wang Communications was in. He'd known for years now that the company was a shell, had been since his father had bought the place.

Ruiji Wang had been grasping at straws to keep the company afloat before the stress had taken over him and he'd collapsed from it. So as not to hurt Jackson, his father had kept the company floating on ImPac funds, using it's skills in advertising and direct marketing, as well as connections to stretch ImPac Group’s reach, instead of using internal teams.

He sighed. Hurting his father was one thing, but pulling off this feat meant potentially losing the one person he's relied on since his mother passed - Jackson.

_Is it all worth it?_

He loved his stepbrother dearly, and he can only hope Jackson would find it in his heart to forgive him. Somehow he had to find a way to claim what was rightfully his without hurting Jackson.

When he got home, he entered his villa slowly. It wasn't at all new to him to come back to silence, but tonight it was especially eerie sounding. It was as if the world was tilting in a different direction. He wandered through the halls for quite some time before he sat at the kitchen island and stared at the stove.

He smirked to himself when the thought of Mark sitting in the same exact seat crossed his mind. There was something unusually interesting about the man. He was shy and yet, spoke his mind whenever he parted his plump pink lips. He began to imagine those lips wrapped around his cock and a tingling sensation ran up his spine. From the seat, he saw himself standing at the stove - a perfect viewpoint of his ass and broad shoulders. Warmth began to pool in his loin, swirling and causing a butterfly effect to rise in his chest…

Shaking his head, he stood and walked out of the kitchen.

 _Those are dangerous thought, Im Jaebum!_ he thought pushing the images out of his mind. _I need a shower. A cold one. Something to get my mind off Mark Tuan and his dangerously sensuous mouth._

He walked to his bedroom and stripped as he made his way into the bathroom. He didn't wait for the water to warm up. He simply stepped in as it came gushing out of the overhead faucet.

He shivered under the assault and the desire in his loins ebbed, but as the water grew warm, the images in his head enhanced and sharpened. Lewd images of Mark tied to a St. Andrew Cross whipped and begging for his cock filled his mind and before he could stop himself he wrapped a hand around himself and jerked himself to a very powerful orgasm. When his mind cleared, he watched his seed swirl around the drainage before getting sucked down and shame filled him.

_What have I done?_

A question echoed in his mind. _Are you attracted to Mark?_

He stumbled backwards like he'd been slapped. _I'm about to sinking Wang Communications. The least I can do is ensure Jackson can hold on to his sub._

He screamed at the top of his lungs in frustration, pulling at his hair until he collapsed on the tiled floor, exhausted and out of breath. Tears sprang to his eyes as he thought of all the people his father controlled. His mother, Sophia, Jackson and now, Mark was going to be caught up in their family web of betrayals and power struggle. Whatever happened, he would ensure no innocent lives were affected. How? He wasn't sure, but something told him Mark would become a pawn in a very dangerous game of chess, and he and Jackson were the only knights that would be able to save Mark from being captured by a ruthless king.

_What a horrible time to find someone after so long._

That nagging feeling deep in his chest told him no one would be spared in this power struggle. He could only hope Jackson would forgive him and support him until the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first I didn't want to crush all the corporate intrigue into one chapter but .... that's what happened and it actually cut like 2 chapter out of my outline so it worked out 
> 
> Let me know what y'all think in the comments :) 
> 
> See y'all in the next chapter

**Author's Note:**

> Well that was the prologue ......
> 
> I'm gonna try and keep each chapter between 8k and 10k words , so it'll be a while to post updates . Questions , comments , concerns , tomatoes and crumpled paper are welcomed to be thrown at me . If you're not comfortable asking me questions here , my twitter handle is @islandahgase . You don't need to follow me . Just drop me a msg and I will answer promptly . I also have a curiouscat so you can do it anonymously :)


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